Gaming DxD
by EyesOfChaos
Summary: Ah, the old tried and true 'sucked into another world' trope. He never thought it'd happen to him, just like he never thought he'd have the power of The Gamer, or have free reign to travel the multiverse. And what with the kind of person he is, it won't take too long for him to break something. Let's just hope that 'something' doesn't happen to be reality. Or himself. OP! Gamer OC.
1. Press Start To Begin

**Hello there! EyesOfChaos here, finally delivering the long-promised rewrite of Gaming DxD! Man, did this take a while! Let me tell you, typing on mobile sucks!**

 **Now,** **I shouldn't have to tell you, but updates will probably have pretty substantial gaps in-between them until I can procure a laptop, because I live nowhere near any public libraries.** **But, until I can get a new laptop, this is what I'm reduced to, and I'll have to make due with it. Oh well.**

 **And for those of you who don't know that this is a rewrite, well now you do! And also congratulations for not having to witness the embarrassment that was my first attempt at this story.**

 **But you didn't come here to hear me complain, so without further ado; Gaming DxD!**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own High School DxD (obviously). High School DxD is the intellectual property of one Ichiei Ishibumi. The only thing I own is the Original Character (OC) protagonist.**

* * *

"Regular Speech."

(Thought).

 _Written word._

 **#Electronics (cell phones, televisions, etc.)#**

"{Foreign Language}."

 **"Sealed beings, Godlike entities,** _ **really**_ **pissed off people."**

 **Gamer related Content**

 **++0++ - minor time skip.**

 **++V++ - major time skip.**

* * *

 **Prologue  
Act One**

 **"Press Start To Begin"**

* * *

Sound. The first thing he registered when he awoke was the sound of an old radio playing a dour jazz melody, the moody tones almost convincing him to stay where he was and go back to sleep. Almost.

Cracking his eyes open, he observed the room around him, noting that, first and foremost, it was definitely _not_ the room he'd gone to sleep in. In fact, it was so far removed from his small apartment bedroom that he'd at first suspected he was still dreaming.

Put simply, the room he currently resided in looked as though it had been ripped straight out of a classic detective movie, complete with a haze in the air that one would expect from cigarette smoke, the cause of which was, unsurprisingly, a cigarette that had been left lit in an ashtray on the desk he found himself sitting behind, situated in a surprisingly comfortable leather rolling chair.

The detective's office-he referred to it as such because it could be nothing else-featured gray walls with chipped paint, two potted plants on either side of the door, which had his name printed on it backwards (from his perspective), shuttered windows and even a slowly rotating ceiling fan, its blades moving too slowly to disperse the smoke in the air.

Besides the ashtray, there was also an old, square radio sitting on the left side of the desk, the source of the music being pumped throughout the room. Lastly, in the corner of the office there was a hat rack devoid of any actual hats, sitting bare for all the world to see.

The second thing he noted was that he was no longer in his boxers, as he had been when he'd fallen asleep. No, now he was wearing a dark grey hoodie with a pair of black khaki pants and a matching pair of black high-top converse with pink trim. A cursory look under his hoodie told him that he was also wearing a lime green t-shirt.

(What's with the lounge wear?) It was pretty casual attire, in his opinion, and not at all what he usually wore. While he didn't consider himself an overly formal person, he usually made an effort to at least look casually professional; polo-shirts and khaki pants, at the very least.

And for that matter, why was he in a detective's office? The last time he'd checked, he hadn't committed any crimes. But then again, he was _behind_ the desk, so did that meant that _he_ was the detective? Because if so, then why?

Sure, he did enjoy the odd crime show or two, but not enough to buy himself a detective's office, and most certainly not enough to actually _become_ a detective himself.

Before he could attempt to do any more than look around the room, however, a strange anomaly appeared in front of him; a light grey text box. One that was floating. In front of him. _In the real world_. So either he was in a _very_ realistic virtual reality game, or his life had just taken a _very_ strange turn.

The screen in question simply showed the words **'Life: The Game'** in blocky white letters against a black background, with a start button boxed underneath the title. Figuring that he wouldn't get anywhere by staring impassively at it, the young adult conceded and pressed said start button.

* * *

 **Loading...**

 **Loading...**

 **Loading...**

 **Load Complete!**

 **Hello, new Gamer!**

 **Have you ever wanted to slay dragons and save princesses? Have you ever wished that you could have shootouts in space?**

 **Well, now you _can_!**

 **As a Gamer, you will travel to different worlds and forge brand new experiences within them!**

 **Will you be the brave hero who leads the people into a bright new day?**

 **Or will you be a villain, and conquer the world for your own personal benefit?**

 ** _YOU_ decide!**

 **Oh, and don't worry about being found out; your arrival will be planned so as to not make you seem out of place!**

 **Just don't tell anyone about The Gamer or the existence of the multiverse, or we'll come find you and do terrible violence-related things to you!**

 **WE MEAN IT!**

* * *

(...huh. Okay then.) He thought numbly, mulling over the information he'd just received. If this wasn't just some prank or an ultra-advanced video game, then he'd just become a Gamer, like Han Jee Han from the titular manhwa of the same name. And that... was pretty awesome.

But then again, what about his old life? What about his apartment, and his job, and... well, that was about all he had in his old life, really.

...why did he care about his old life, again?

Oh right, he didn't.

Turning his attention back to the screen, he saw that it had finished reading out its welcome message and was now displaying an empty line with a button below it that said **'select'**.

 **Press this button to determine your destination via random number generator. If the outcome is not to your liking, please choose again until the outcome becomes favorable.**

 **Player may be subject to physical alteration to conform with universe-specific logic (Ex: cannot be human in a universe where they do not exist, cannot be a male/female member of a female/male only species/race, etc.).**

 **When in-universe, if the player 'dies', they will receive a Game Over, and be sent to the waiting room to choose a new destination.**

(...well, alright then.) Proceeding as instructed, he watched as the screen faded to black. Right afterward, a low drumming sound could be heard that slowly increased in intensity until it became a full-on drum roll, at the end of which two cymbals clashed loudly as the outcome appeared on screen.

 **"Bleach"  
** **[Confirm] [Try Again]**

(Bleach? The filler anime? No thanks, mate.) Hitting the 'try again' button, he watched as it went through the motions once more before spitting out a different outcome.

 **"Grand Theft Auto (series)"  
** **[Confirm] [Try Again]**

(Yeah, that's not it either.)

 **"That Seventies Show"  
** **[Confirm] [Try Again]**

(Nope.)

 **"To Kill a Mockingbird"  
** **[Confirm] [Try Again]**

(Nah.)

 **"Pokemon (game)"  
** **[Confirm] [Try Again]**

(Slightly tempting, but no.)

 **"Pupa (anime)"  
** **[Confirm] [Try Again]**

(Oh, _hell_ no.)

 **"Berserk"  
** **[Confirm] [Try Again]**

(...you've gotta be kidding me.) This was getting ridiculous! All of those rolls were either terrible or boring! And what was up with those last two both being about gore and body horror? He needed a good roll, dammit! Pressing try again one more time, he sat back and hoped that this time, the outcome _wouldn't_ be terrible.

 **"High School DxD"  
** **[Confirm] [Try Again]**

(High School DxD? I can live with that.) At least it was better than fussing with the destination button for the next twenty minutes. Besides, High School DxD was the premiere place to start building godlike levels of power, which he'd no doubt be able to use to _dominate_ any other universe. Except for Touhou. Touhou girls were _ridiculous_.

Oh, and there were also multiple opportunities to build a harem, if he so desired.

...but on the other hand, High School DxD was full of a surprising amount of bloodshed and violence with dark biblical overtones, not to mention the _ludicrously powerful_ beings that called it home who would no doubt make his life infinitely harder for no reason other than because they could.

After several moments of carefully weighing the pros and cons, he hesitantly hit the confirm button, and then leaned back in surprise when an 8-bit trumpet fanfare began to sound right afterward.

* * *

 **Destination Selected!**

 **Calibrating Stats...**

 **Harmonizing Skills...**

 **Localizing Mcguffins...**

 **Load Complete!**

 **Enjoy your trip!**

* * *

When the fanfare finished, the screen then switched to a title menu for a High School DxD-based video game, complete with the opening theme of the anime playing in the background.

 **"Gaming DxD"  
"A High School DxD RPG"  
** **[Start]**

Behind the title and subtitle were three silhouettes of humanoid-looking beings. One was of a curvy woman with batlike wings sprouting from her back, the second was of a different, yet equally curvy woman with what looked like bird wings, and the third was a man, also with bird wings, but his outline was pure white, contrasting the other two's black outlines.

Pressing start, the screen then disappeared, and his confusion began to rise when nothing happened for a solid five or so seconds.

 **Hello, Gamer!**

Out of nowhere, a message popped up in front of his face, startling him slightly due to its closeness.

 **Let's start off by familiarizing you with your menu! To start, think or say 'menu'.** **Please take this time to look through all currently available tabs.**

(Yeah yeah, I've read enough **Gamer** fanfiction to know this whole song and dance.) He grumbled, inwardly irritated at being jumpscared by _text_. Nevertheless, he did as instructed, speaking the word inside of his head because he refused to say it out loud like a mongoloid.

 **[[Menu]]  
[Status]-[Skills]-[Inventory]-[Equipment]-**[Quests] **-** [Relationships]-[Go Online]-[Shop] **-[Compendium]-** **[Options]**

It was, by and large, exactly how he'd expected it to be, though he hadn't foreseen that the majority of his options would be greyed out and unavailable, nor that there would be an option for playing online. Though now that he thought about it, he guessed it made sense; some people thrived on socialization or pitting themselves against their peers in video games.

...well, that was true of most everything, its just that video games just so happened to be the most relevant one to his situation, but that was neither here nor there. After a moment's thought, he decided to start from the top, and selected **Status** first.

 **[** **Status** **]**

 **Personal Information  
[**Human **]**  
 **Name: [** Elliot Winterveil **]  
** **Age: [** 21 **]**  
 **Race: [** African American **]**  
 **Gender: [** Male **]  
** **  
Title(s): [** N/A **]  
** **Class(es): [** Civilian **]  
** **Alignment: [** N/A **]  
** **Sacred Gear:** **[** N/A|Dormant **]**

 **General Stats  
LV: **1  
 **HP:** 70/70  
 **MP:** 10/10

 **EXP:** 0/30

 **Stat Points:** 0

 **Physical Stats**  
 **VIT:** 6 (0)  
 **AGI:** 9 (0)  
 **STR:** 8 (0)  
 **DEX:** 11 (0)  
 **ACC:** 13 (0)

 **Mental Stats**  
 **INT:** 24 (0)  
 **WIS:** 21 (0)  
 **CHA:** 7 (0)

 **Metaphysical Stats  
** **LUK:** 12 (0) **  
** **MAG:** 1 (0)

 **Perks/Buffs/Debuffs  
** **[** Passive Regeneration **]-Desc: [** Regenerate **HP** and **MP** over time. **]-Effect: [** Passively regenerate **HP** at a rate of 0.6/s, and **MP** at a rate of 0.1/s. **]**

 **Quick Character Bio  
** **"Elliot Winterveil. Gamer."**

 **Drops  
5 exp, Human Corpse (x1), Black Converse, Black Sweatpants, Green T-shirt, Grey Hoodie**

(ten stats? _Ten_ _stats_?) How was he supposed to manage _ten_ stats at once? Was he supposed to just ignore one or two and favor the rest? Or was he actually expected to keep all of them at an optimal level? Because if so, that was barbaric and cruel.

...well, not really. It couldn't be _that_ difficult to take care of ten different stats. He was mostly just exaggerating the situation as a coping mechanism for the fact that his life was now _literally a game_.

And also, why was **The Game** telling him what _he'd_ drop if he died? That was kind of redundant to him. And why was he only worth five **exp**?!

Aside from his stats, there was also a character portrait taking up the entire right-hand side of the screen. Staring back at him was a young adult with skin the color of rich cocoa, a pair of curiously deep amber eyes and a head of wild, curly hair the color of midnight. He was slightly taller than average, just two inches over six feet in height, and had a lean frame that made him seem even taller. That, combined with his broad shoulders, made him seem as though he took up more space than he actually did.

Contrasting his relatively slim physique, his body was noticeably toned from frequent exercise, though most of that was from having to walk everywhere or carry heavy things at his job rather than any intentional attempt to work out. That didn't mean he wasn't thankful for it when he needed to lift something particularly heavy at work or needed to run when he was almost late, though.

His portrait was, of course, wearing the clothes that he was at that very moment in time, and as he found out when he put the hood on out of curiosity, changed in real time to reflect his current state. And in his opinion, said outfit looked surprisingly good on him considering that he'd never worn anything like it before.

After staring at himself like a narcissist for a whole minute, Elliot then backed out of his status screen and clicked on **Skills**.

 **[ Skills]**

 **[** Gamer's Mind **]-LV: [** MAX **]-Desc: [** Gamer's Mind allows the user to think calmly and carefully in any situation. **]  
** **Skill Effect: [** Knowledge of all languages. Negation of psychological skills and status effects. Immunity to mental disease/sickness. **]-** **Skill Cost: [** N/A **]** **  
**

 **[** Gamer's Body **]-LV: [** MAX **]-Desc: [** Gamer's Body allows the user to live life like a video game character. **]**  
 **Skill Effect: [** Immunity to physical injury (does not negate damage or death). Immunity to sickness/illness/disease. Unlimited stamina. Eating and sleeping optional. **]-** **Skill Cost: [** N/A **]**

 **[** Fiction Adaptation **]-LV: [** MAX **]-Desc: [** Fiction Adaptation allows the user to adapt concepts from other works of fiction and add it to their current world. **]-Locked**  
 **Skill Effect: [** Adapt and utilize any item, power or concept from any work of fiction. Adjustments may be made to make said concept more world-friendly. **]-** **Skill Cost: [** N/A **]**

 **[** ID Create **]-LV: [** 1 **]-Exp: [** 0/220 **] Desc: [** ID Create allows the user to create an instant dungeon on-command. **]-Locked**  
 **Skill Effect: [** Create instant dungeon. **]-** **Skill Cost: [** 10 MP **]** **  
**

 **[** ID Escape **]-LV: [** 1 **]-Exp: [** 0/220 **]-Desc: [** ID Escape allows the user to exit an instant dungeon. **]-Locked**  
 **Skill Effect: [** Exit current instant dungeon. **]-** **Skill Cost: [** N/A **]**

 **[** Observe **]-LV: [** 1 **]-EXP: [** 0/40 **]-Desc: [** Observe allows the user to analyze anyone/anything in detail. **]**  
 **Active Skill Effect: [** Analyze object/being. Determined by skill level vs object/being level. **]-Skill Cost: [** N/A **]  
Passive Skill Effect: [**Notice discrepancies/illusions more easily. **]** **-Skill Cost: [** N/A **]**

(Oh, **Fiction Adaptation**. How broken art thee?) The answer was very. It was very, very broken. He could already imagine what would happen if he took, say, Superman's abilities and paired them with Discord's powers of chaos. He could also just _give_ himself overpowered weaponry like Lucifer from Devil May Cry, or the Black Knight Greatsword from Dark Souls.

He also got **ID Create** and **ID Escape** , both of which had the potential to be ludicrously powerful skills when in the right hands, especially considering how **ID Create** could make an empty Instant Dungeon and simply let the user walk about freely without being detected, and **ID Escape** allowed them to exit into the real world at any time, and thus an intelligent individual could use said skills in tandem to escape-or ambush-targets.

Indeed, he'd definitely have to check them out when he was allowed to use them. But for now, he moved on to his **Inventory**.

 **[ Inventory]**

 **-Black Converse (Equipped)  
-Black Sweatpants ****(Equipped** **)  
** **-Grey Hoodie** **(Equipped** **)  
** **-green T-shirt** **(Equipped** **)**

Yeah, pretty much what he expected. Nothing but the clothes on his back. And front. And everywhere else on his body, for that matter. And it was for that very same reason that he didn't check out his **Equipment** menu; it would've only told him what he already knew, and he didn't exactly need a refresher on what he was already wearing.

So, with nothing much left to look at in his inventory (and no desire to look through the **Compendium** at the moment), he moved on to his last option... **Options**.

 **[ Options]**

 **HUD: Always On [Auto-Hide] Always Off: (Realism Mode)** **  
Low HP Warning: [ON] OFF  
Item Popups: [ON] OFF  
Skill Popups: [ON] OFF  
Status Popups: [ON] OFF  
Auto Loot: [ON] OFF  
** **BGM: [ON] OFF  
** **Battle Music: [ON] OFF  
** **Subtitles: [ON] OFF  
[Help]**

(Yeah, changes're gonna be made here.) Going down the list, Elliot turned **Item Popups** , **BGM** , **Battle Music,** **Low HP Warning** and **Subtitles** off. For as much as he liked awesome music to fight to, he valued the ability to hear his own thoughts during battle even more so. Similarly, the 'low hp warning' in most video games pissed him off to no end, no way was he dealing with it in _real life_.

Also, if he was going to be able to understand everyone anyway, then why have subtitles telling him what they were saying? It just seemed kind of redundant.

With that out of the way and no more menus to fiddle with, he dismissed the menu entirely, only to have a message pop up in his face.

 **Done yet? Good! We hope you familiarized yourself with the menu, because it will be your main interaction point with The Game during your journey as a Gamer.**

 **But now we have a serious question to ask; would you like to take the tutorial?  
[YES] [NO]**

(...might as well.) After all, even though the 'Gamer' system was based on a work of fiction with its own set rules, it was largely up to the writer to determine how they wanted it to work for their story, and therefore there was no set 'standard' for it.

Which meant that even though he had an inkling of what he'd be dealing with, he still didn't know exactly what to expect. He was, effectively, flying blind. And that was something he needed to remedy as fast as possible.

So after thinking it over and reaching a logical decision, he clicked **'yes'**.

* * *

 **Tutorial Selected!**

 **Constructing Starting Gear...**

 **Scaling Enemy Stats...**

 **Downloading Rewards...**

 **Load Complete!**

 **Have fun in the tutorial!**

* * *

The moment the tutorial finished downloading, the door leading out of the room swung open. But instead of a hallway waiting on the other side of the door, it instead led out into a moonlit urban street.

What little he could see of said street included a few shops and buildings, a line of cars parked on the side of the road and a few streetlamps lighting the way. All in all, it was an odd choice for a tutorial area, but it would have to do.

Standing up, he prepared himself for whatever the Game was about to throw at him, and walked through the door. And as his shoes hit the pavement, Elliot's senses were bombarded with a million little smells, sounds and feelings. The smell of fresh coffee and desserts wafting from the shops. The distant honking of car horns and the sound of the wind whistling through the empty street. The feeling of a cool breeze washing itself over him.

It all came together in one overwhelming package that suddenly and loudly informed him of just how sterile and blank the 'waiting room' had been. He hadn't noticed, but he hadn't actually _smelled_ the smoke in the air, or _felt_ the breeze coming from the ceiling fan, he simply knew that both existed.

It was... odd, realizing just how deprived of sense he'd been only moments prior, like he'd been trapped in a vacuum and only just now had he been spat out of it.

Speaking of which... turning around on his heel, he looked back into the so-called 'waiting room', taking in the moody private investigator's office in silent reflection, before mutely closing the door and turning back around to further observe his environs.

Just as he suspected, his 'tutorial area' was an urban environment in the streets of a nondescript city, one likely fabricated by the Game itself. He couldn't pinpoint it exactly, but the architecture of the 'city' was definitely of European design, some kind of mix between Italian and French, if he had to guess.

Looking around, he found that there was only one place for him to go; forward. A glance behind him, where the door had been before it disappeared, showed that the street terminated into a dense, pitch-black fog that seemed either completely impassible or so dense that walking through it would be ill-advised.

By contrast, the street in front of him went on for what looked like miles, with no clear end in sight. The streets were also empty; not a single soul could be found, despite the numerous lights on in the various buildings and the distant sounds of the hustle and bustle of human activity.

Nonetheless, he wasn't going to get anywhere by standing around, and so he made to start walking. But before he could get anywhere, another screen popped up in front of him, though this time it was a respectful distance from his face.

 **Welcome to the tutorial!**

 **Here you will experience combat firsthand!**

 **But don't think that we'll be sending you in raw! No, we've got something special just for you!**

(Just for me, eh?) Was it a weapon? It was probably a weapon, like a sword or a gun. But then again, it was tutorial equipment, so it'd probably be crap equipment, like a foam sword or a dart gun.

 **Your very own [Sacred Gear]!**

...what?

 **That's right! You will be receiving one free world-friendly mcguffin with which to practice! As you've chosen to enter the world of [High School DxD], you will be given a [Sacred Gear] to train with _and_ to keep!**

 **We would also like to stress that this [Sacred Gear] will in no way impact your ability to naturally develop a [Sacred Gear] in the future! In other words, this one's on the house!**

(Sweet!)

After he finished reading, the screen then dismissed itself, and his attention was drawn to a pillar of light that shone down like a spotlight directly in front of him. Then, like a gift from above (which it technically actually was), a golden ball of light literally descended from the heavens and hovered in front of him for a moment, before before floating into his body and phasing though his flesh painlessly, settling itself into his core with an odd, palpable presence.

(I... I guess that's that.) He muttered in his own head, letting the feeling settle as told himself that he'd eventually get used to it. But more pressing at the moment; what sacred gear had he gotten? Was it something flashy, like Sword Birth? Or utilitarian, like Twilight Healing? Oh, maybe it was a kind of shield, like Applause Wall, or a battlefield-controller like Gravity Jail!

But why waste time speculating when he could find out! Opening his inventory to equip said sacred gear, he became confused when it was nowhere to be seen. Would it not count as an item because it was technically a part of him? Perhaps so. But a cursory glance at his status showed that his sacred gear was still listed as dormant or nonexistent, so maybe it was just dormant, and he had yet to unlock it? That sounded probable enough.

But how did he go about unlocking it, then? How had they done it again? Oh, right! He needed to emulate a stance or a pose from someone he thought was powerful. But he knew of a lot of powerful characters (both anime and video games were full of them, after all), so who did he attempt to emulate? Josuke? Yeah, how about Josuke!

...but which one of Josuke's poses did he emulate, then? The one with his hand on his hip was definitely out (he didn't even have a bag to sling over his shoulder), but maybe the one with both hands in the air and a twist in his hips? Yeah, that one was fine. So, he mimicked said pose, and concentrated on the odd feeling that had settled into his core. But unfortunately, he didn't feel a single thing happening. Maybe he needed to do an action pose? Fine then, how about Jotaro's 'Ora Ora' pose?

He mimicked that pose perfectly as well, but the only thing that did for him was make him look like he was scratching his head. But if that didn't work, then what would? Jonathan's 'hamon channeling' pose? Nope. Joseph's 'next you're going to say' pose? Nah. Giorno's 'fabulous' shirt-grabbing pose? Not that either.

Hell, not even Dio's 'Wryyy' pose worked! What was this nonsense?!

 **Hey there!**

He was startled out of his fruitless concentration by a popup message appearing in front of his face.

 **How d'ya like your [Sacred Gear]? Love it? We hope you do!**

(I'd love it more if I knew what it was.)

 **Now, with your brand-spankin' new [Sacred Gear], you can properly take on the tutorial!**

(Yeah, except I can't actually _use_ it!)

 **For this tutorial, your** **objective is to make it to the end of this road, but don't think it'll be that easy! There's _plenty_ along the way to slow you down and stop you in your tracks!**

 **But please, do try to have a good time! That's what the Game is for, after all!**

 **Well, that's all for now! Have fun!**

Well, _that_ wasn't ominous at all. Rolling his eyes in a vain attempt to shrug off the tense worry that began broiling in his gut, he then looked down at his hands, wondering why summoning his sacred gear hadn't worked. Was it a problem with him? Did he not have enough mana or something? Or was he not strong enough to wield it yet?

Well, whatever the problem was, there was no use crying about it now. Maybe he could figure it out later. Breathing a sigh through closed teeth, he let his arms fall to his sides, before turning his attention to the task at hand; completing the tutorial mission. But how did he do that with no means of defense? Sure, he _could_ just punch his enemies, but he didn't particularly have very much experience in that method of combat, and so he'd likely be mediocre at best.

Maybe there was some kind of improvised weapon laying around close by, like an old pipe or something. Hell, he'd settle for a _toy sword_ at the moment! But no, unfortunately for him there was nothing in the vicinity that he could use as a weapon, and he'd even checked the alleyways, too... There was nothing even passably lethal around for him to pick up, not even a rock or a broken chunk of pavement.

That would be the only time he cursed having a clean, pristine environment.

So, with feelings of great trepidation, he then began to walk down the street, feeling all too vividly his relative defenselessness considering that he had naught but his own fists to protect himself with.

...this was gonna suck, wasn't it?

* * *

It didn't take long for him to run into danger. After only about three or so minutes of walking did something burst forth out of one of the many shops lining the street, sending shards of glass raining down onto the sidewalk.

Elliot's eyes widened slightly as the figure finally stood to its full height, allowing him to see what it was. It was a man. Or at least, it would've been a man if it actually had any defining features. Instead, it was simply a black mass shaped like a human and wearing human clothes. The clothes of a stereotypical crook, to be precise.

It also had an assortment of several valuable-looking necklaces in its clawed hands, which clacked and clanged loudly against one another as it spun to face him. Despite the fact that it had no eyes, he felt its severe gaze pinning him down and sizing him up at the same time.

Thinking quickly, he activated his **Observe** ability to find out just what he was up against.

 **[ Observation]**

 **Personal Information  
[**Shadowfiend **]** **  
Name: [** Dominic **]  
** **Age: [** 36 **]**  
 **Race: [** N/A **]**  
 **Gender: [** Male **]  
** **  
** **Title(s): [** N/A **]  
** **Class(es): [** Phantom Thief (Grunt) **]  
** **Alignment: [** Shade Gang **]  
** **Sacred Gear:** **[** N/A|Dormant **]**

 **General Stats  
LV:** 1 **  
HP:** 120/120 **  
** **MP:** N/A

 **Physical Stats**  
 **VIT:** 2 (0)  
 **AGI:** 4 (0)  
 **STR:** 3 (0)  
 **DEX:** 3 (0)  
 **ACC:** 2 (0)

 **Mental Stats**  
 **INT:** 5 (0)  
 **WIS:** 2 (0)  
 **CHA:** 7 (0)

 **Metaphysical Stats  
** **LUK:** 9 (0) **  
** **MAG:** 0 (0)

 **Perks/Buffs/Debuffs  
** **N/A**

 **Quick Character Bio  
** **"Unfortunately more likely to steal your valuables than your heart."**

 **Drops  
5 exp, 4-20 gold**

Okay, first of all, who puts that much _character_ into a _trash mob_. Seriously, he has a name and everything! Wouldn't it just be easier to make them like mass-produced generic goons instead of actual individual characters? And secondly, why did said trash mob have _more_ health than him if it had _less_ **VIT**?! That was just unfair!

...okay, okay, he just needed to calm down and think about this rationally. Sure, this wasn't not what he was expecting, but the situation wasn't unmanageable by any stretch of the imagination. Taking a deep breath, he took up a boxers' stance, albeit a sloppy one due to him mostly imitating what he'd seen before, and waited for the phantom thief to make its move.

 **[ Enemy]  
Dominic (LV: 1)  
HP: 120/120  
MP: N/A**

 **VS**

 **[** **Player** **]  
Elliot Winterveil (LV: 1)  
HP: 70/70  
MP: 10/10**

Turned out that he wouldn't have to wait for very long, as 'Dominic' leapt toward him, attempting to rake him across the face and forcing him to dodge to the side, stumbling somewhat from the sudden movement. Elliot then saw a - **5** appear in his mind's eye, and felt a bit of blood trickle down his cheek. Clearly he hadn't been fast enough. He'd have to work on that.

But instead of taking the opportunity to attack in return, he instead took a moment to observe how long it took for Dominic to recover from his lunge, noting that Dominic had really put his whole body into that attack, and that if he'd been caught by that, he probably would've had to say goodbye to his face. Dodging was definitely a must.

As his foe got back to his feet and turned to face him once more, Elliot mentally and physically prepared to evade another attack. And sure enough, the phantom lunged at him once more, but this time he was ready. Ducking under the thief's outstretched claws, he delivered a hard right jab to the gut that dealt **2** **7** damage and sent Dominic reeling, which he followed up with a left hook to the thief's side.

...or at least he would've if the phantom hadn't recovered far quicker than expected, and scored across his incoming arm, cutting through the fabric of both his hoodie and shirt and causing a spray of blood to squirt out, a **-32** flashing in-front of his eyes.

"Shiiifuuummmph!" He spat unintelligibly, reeling back and retreating a few feet as he clenched his left fist in pain. That was almost _half_ of his health in one shot! Why did the _tutorial_ enemies have the power to almost _halve_ his health with one attack?!

(Note to self; enemy's reaction time is far faster than expected.) Shaking his head, he gathered himself just in time to dodge another clumsy swipe that sent his foe careening. And as he saw Dominic flop down to the ground again, a plan was born inside his mind. Waiting for the opportune moment, Elliot allowed the thief to stand up once more, but this time when he came hurtling at him, Elliot made sure to duck under Dominic's arm instead of dodging to the side, and then bashed him across the back of the head with a left jab, dealing **44** damage with a **'headshot'** message popping up beside it and also staggering the phantom significantly.

(That's it!) Headshots! He'd have to go for headshots to end this quickly!

Taking a boxing stance once more, Elliot cocked his right arm back and tensed it as he waited for his adversary to get to his feet. And when Dominic turned around, Elliot rammed his fist directly into Dominic's 'face', sending him sprawling back down to the floor and dealing a critical **5** **6** damage with another **'headshot'** message beside it.

(Hooray for **Game Mechanics**!) No, seriously. He _would not_ be doing as well if **Game Mechanics** weren't a thing. If he managed to keep this up, he might just do well long enough to find an actual _weapon_! Taking advantage of his enemy's downed state, Elliot walked up to him and curb-stomped Dominic's head several times, dealing **3** **8** , **52** , **44** , **56** and **60** damage in quick succession.

Suffice to say, the phantom thief did not get back up again.

He let out a sigh of relief when he finally saw the body disintegrate, along with getting a message that he'd gotten **5** **exp** and **9 gold**.

(Well, that was... more difficult than it needed to be.) Honestly, who threw a speedy charging enemy at a newbie in a tutorial? And as his _first_ enemy, no less! Seriously, what if he'd been slower to react than he had been? He'd be dead, that's what! D.E.A.D murdered!

Elliot was interrupted out of his griping when another message popped up in front of him, this time showing him two new skills he'd created.

 **[ New Skill Created!]**

 **[** Boxing **]-LV: [** 1 **]-Exp: [** 0/30 **]-Desc: [** A form of unarmed combat primarily focusing on punches and quick movement. **]  
-Sub Skill: [**Right Hook **]-LV: [** 1 **]-Exp: [** 0/20 **]-Desc: [** A bonafide jaw-dropper. And also a jaw breaker. **]  
** **Skill Effect: [** Throw a mean right-hand punch that has a higher chance of dizzying the target. **]DMG: [** STR*0.9 + DEX*0.5 **]** **-** **Skill Cost: [** N/A **]**

 **[** Street Fighting **]-LV: [** 1 **]-Exp: [** 0/30 **]-Desc: [** A form of no-rules, unregulated combat where anything goes. **]  
** **-Sub Skill: [** Curb Stomp **]-LV: [** 1 **]-Exp: [** 0/20 **]-Desc: [** Add insult to injury by kicking them when they're down. Literally. **]  
** **Skill Effect: [** Deliver successive hits to a downed opponent. **]DMG: [** STR*1.1 + DEX*0.2 **]** **-** **Skill Cost: [** N/A **]**

(Well, at least _something_ good came out of this.) He sulked as he sat down to take a break and calm down.

 **Congratulations!**

And then got surprised by _yet another_ message popping up in front of his face.

 **Out of all Gamers in existence, roughly 62% suffered a Game Over at this stage in their respective tutorials and had to restart! Good job being in the minority!**

(Okay, there's a lot of ways that last remark can be taken, and most of them _aren't_ good.)

 **Please proceed to the rest of the tutorial when you're ready!**

A giant, glowing green arrow then flickered to life, pointing in the direction of what was obviously the _only_ way to go before disappearing.

(...that is absolutely useless.) Heaving a sigh, he looked down at his arm, gazing at the dried blood that had pooled around where he'd been cut, idly noting that both his arm and his clothes had stitched themselves back together, thankfully not within one another. He definitely did not want cloth in his wounds.

Waiting for his health to regenerate, he passed the time by getting up and looking into the store the thief had bolted out of, noting with no surprise that it was, indeed, a jewelry store. In fact, there were quite a few valuable pieces held within.

(Hmm...) Looking around to make sure that no one could see him, he stepped lightly through the broken window, peering around at all the merchandise that was just sitting there, ripe for the taking. Surely the owner wouldn't mind if he took juuust one of them, y'know, for saving his store from theft. No, they wouldn't mind at all~

Tip-toeing over to the nearest display case, he peered in at the expensive-looking sapphire necklace held within. Bingo. Lifting up the glass gently, he slipped his hand in and quickly pinched the necklace, softly dropping the case back down, now sans the item it had been displaying.

(Cha-ching.) This necklace must've been worth at least five hundred dollars! Why, he was almost tempted to wear it, if he didn't have plans that involved making serious cash off of it.

 **[ New Skill Created!]**

 **[** Thievery **]-LV: [** 1 **]-Exp: [** 0/45 **]-Desc: [** Who says crime doesn't pay? **]  
** **-Sub Skill: [** Steal **]-LV: [** 1 **]-Exp: [** 0/35 **]-Desc: [** Take it right out from under their noses. **]**  
 **Skill Effect: [** 10% chance to successfully take small items without being noticed. **]-** **Skill Cost: [** N/A **]**

(...I got a skill? One that could, if nurtured properly, let me take whatever I want without getting caught?) ...and here he was, standing in the middle of an unmanned jewelry store, with plenty of loot ripe for the plundering. Normally, he'd never have thought about stealing. But now, when he knew that he could make a valuable skill out of it...

...well, he may have to start adhering to some stereotypes.

Cracking his knuckles, he let out a little chuckle as his face slipped into a wry grin.

"It's liquidation time."

* * *

Softly whistling a merry tune, Elliot strutted nonchalantly out of the jewelry store a far richer man, before walking merrily down the street as if nothing had happened.

(Oh, happy days~) He was gonna be so rich when he finished this tutorial! Well, relatively rich, anyway. He'd at least be able to live easy, maybe retire early if he put it all away and let it gather interest. Or maybe he could invest in the stock market, and make it big if he bought the right shares. Either way, he'd probably be able to spend his later years relaxing in some tropical resort.

*Craaasssh!*

But he could worry about that later. For now, he had to deal with another phantom thief that had arrived on the scene, this one having a similar means of arrival as the last. But unlike the last phantom that he'd faced, this one wasn't decked out in expensive jewelry. No, instead this one had several types of pharmaceutical supplies tucked into its arms.

 **[ Observation]**

 **Personal Information  
[**Shadowfiend **]** **  
Name: [** Cameron **]  
** **Age: [** 29 **]**  
 **Race: [** N/A **]**  
 **Gender: [** Male **]**

 **Title(s): [** N/A **]  
** **Class(es): [** Phantom Thief (Grunt) **]  
** **Alignment: [** Shade Gang **]  
** **Sacred Gear:** **[** N/A|Dormant **]**

 **General Stats  
LV:** 1 **  
HP:** 160/160 **  
** **MP:** N/A

 **Physical Stats**  
 **VIT:** 5 (0)  
 **AGI:** 3 (0)  
 **STR:** 4 (0)  
 **DEX:** 2 (0)  
 **ACC:** 1 (0)

 **Mental Stats**  
 **INT:** 3 (0)  
 **WIS:** 5 (0)  
 **CHA:** 4 (0)

 **Metaphysical Stats  
** **LUK:** 1 (0) **  
** **MAG:** 0 (0)

 **Perks/Buffs/Debuffs** **  
** **N/A**

 **Quick Character Bio  
"Unfortunately more likely to steal your valuables than your heart."**

 **Drops: 5 exp, 4-20 gold**

Okay, so apparently this one was named Cameron, and Cameron was apparently more of a Brute than Dominic. Seriously, what was with this unnecessary characterization? They even had different _stats_! Just as before, the phantom took his sweet time standing all the way up before turning to look at him, all of his stolen loot clattering to the ground in the process.

 **[ Enemy]  
Cameron (LV: 1)  
HP: 160/160  
MP: N/A**

 **VS**

 **[** **Player** **]  
Elliot Winterveil (LV: 1)  
HP: 70/70  
MP: 10/10**

(Well, here we go again I guess.) He sighed, once again taking a boxer's stance as he waited for his opponent to make a move. Only this time, he had a plan. The moment that Cameron darted toward him, Elliot rolled away as normal, except that he took the time to scoop a large-ish shard of glass off of the ground before he stood up again, twirling it idly in his hand as he waited for his opponent to make another move.

And once again, the thief darted toward him with outstretched claws, forcing him to dodge to the side. Not waiting for him to recover this time, Elliot rushed up to Cameron and kicked the back of his knee, forcing him to fall into a kneeling stance as he grabbed the phantom's head with his free hand and forcibly drove the shard of glass into the back of Cameron's neck. Predictably, this killed him instantaneously, the thief disintegrating even as he fell to the ground, hands clutched to the shard poking through the front of his throat.

(...why didn't I just do that the first time?) Honestly, that had been markedly easier than before! Who knew shards of glass could be so deadly?

Oh wait, _he_ did. Elliot had just forgotten in the heat of the moment.

Well not anymore! Grabbing up several sizable shards of glass, Elliot stuffed them into his inventory for use later. Finally, weapons! Crappy weapons, but weapons! Finishing that, his attention was then turned to the pharmaceutical supplies that had been dropped by the late thief in its haste to defeat him. Walking over, he inspected some of said items.

Bandages. Cold medicine. Cough syrup. Typical pharmaceuticals, and not really worth his time. At least that was what he thought until he spied the first aid kit laying at the bottom of the pile of items. Picking it up and turning it over, gears started turning in his head. First aid kits in video games were always health items. If _he_ was in a video game now, then did that mean...?

Using his **Observe** ability, he analyzed the first aid kit in order to figure out whether his logic held.

 **[ Item Observation** **]**

 **[** First Aid Kit **]-Item Type: [** Consumable **]** **-Durability: [** 90/90 **]-** **Item Rating: [** C **]-Item Rarity: [** D **]** **  
Item Effect: [** Recover up to 50% of maximum **HP**. **]  
Item Desc: [**A medical toolkit containing supplies to help stabilize an injured person's condition. **]**

Yup, it was a health item! Undoubtedly useful, useful enough in fact for him to ignore the moral dilemma of stealing from a pharmaceutical store in order to further his own goals. As a matter of fact, taking a peek into the store through the shattered window, he felt that his **Thievery** skill could use some working out...

* * *

After having cleared out the store of all useful supplies, he once again made his way down the street, inventory full of goods requisitioned for a greater purpose; his continued survival.

The next two enemies (who were named Jack and Brian, if you were wondering) were more of the same. A window broke, a phantom thief popped out, and he shanked them in the neck until they fizzled out of existence, netting him more **exp** and **gold** as well as whatever valuables the thieves had been interested in. _Purely to level up his **Thievery** skill, of course_.

(Good God, this is boring.) Wasn't fighting only supposed to get boring when it became an **exp** grind? He was still the proper level for these beginner mooks, and they were _still_ managing to be as boring as dirt! That must've been _some_ kind of record, like 'fastest an enemy becomes old news' or something. Honestly, the only excitement he was getting at this point was from his constant steali-err... from his continued requisitioning of necessary supplies for a greater purpose.

Fortunately for him, he'd finally reached the end of the street, and so it seemed that he wouldn't have to deal with anymore basic trash mobs. Unfortunately for him, however, the end of the street happened to be a rather large and abandoned looking hospital that screamed 'gang hideout', complete with graffiti courtesy of one 'Shade Gang'. And if its outward appearance weren't enough to project that idea, then the two phantom thieves posted on either side of the door were.

But unlike the bottom-of-the-barrel mooks he'd been dealing with thus far, the two guarding the entrance were actually armed. The one on the right had procured (read: stolen) a metal baseball bat and was idly palming it over and over again, while the one on the left wielded a wicked looking knife that was razor-sharp and shone in the moonlight as the fiend idly twirled it in their hand.

Suddenly, one of the guards began to look up, causing him to quickly duck into a nearby alleyway and press himself against the wall, praying that he hadn't been spotted. Taking on one phantom thief? No problem. Taking on two, probably harder. But taking on two who were both _armed_? Tantamount to suicide, at least at his current level. No, he'd have to play this smart to get by. After counting down fifteen seconds, Elliot chanced a quick peek around the corner, seeing that, thankfully, neither guard had moved from their positions.

 **[ Observation]**

 **(1)**

 **Personal Information  
[**Shadowfiend **]** **  
Name: [** Mary **]  
** **Age: [** 32 **]**  
 **Race: [** N/A **]**  
 **Gender: [** Female **]**

 **Title(s): [** N/A **]  
** **Class(es): [** Phantom Thief (Throat Slicer) **]  
** **Alignment: [** Shade Gang **]  
** **Sacred Gear:** **[** N/A|Dormant **]**

 **General Stats  
LV:** 2 **  
HP:** 140/140 **  
** **MP:** N/A

 **Physical Stats**  
 **VIT:** 4 (0)  
 **AGI:** 5 (0)  
 **STR:** 2 (0)  
 **DEX:** 6 (0)  
 **ACC:** 5 (0)

 **Mental Stats**  
 **INT:** 6 (0)  
 **WIS:** 5 (0)  
 **CHA:** 3 (0)

 **Metaphysical Stats  
** **LUK:** 2 (0) **  
** **MAG:** 0 (0)

 **Perks/Buffs/Debuffs** **  
** **N/A**

 **Quick Character Bio  
"Adept at all manner of neck slicery."**

 **Drops: 20 exp, 11-30 gold, Serrated Knife (9%)**

 **(2)**

 **Personal Information  
[**Shadowfiend **]** **  
Name: [** Shelly **]  
** **Age: [** 28 **]**  
 **Race: [** N/A **]**  
 **Gender: [** Female **]**

 **Title(s): [** N/A **]  
** **Class(es): [** Phantom Thief (Legbreaker) **]  
** **Alignment: [** Shade Gang **]  
** **Sacred Gear:** **[** N/A|Dormant **]**

 **General Stats  
LV:** 2 **  
HP:** 190/190 **  
** **MP:** N/A

 **Physical Stats**  
 **VIT:** 9 (0)  
 **AGI:** 2 (0)  
 **STR:** 7 (0)  
 **DEX:** 1 (0)  
 **ACC:** 1 (0)

 **Mental Stats**  
 **INT:** 3 (0)  
 **WIS:** 2 (0)  
 **CHA:** 2 (0)

 **Metaphysical Stats  
** **LUK:** 3 (0) **  
** **MAG:** 0 (0)

 **Perks/Buffs/Debuffs** **  
** **N/A**

 **Quick Character Bio  
"A shady goon, in more ways than one."**

 **Drops: 20 exp, 11-30 gold, Baseball Bat (12%)**

(Are you kidding me?! Almost _double_ the health for a _level 2_ enemy?!) What kind of nonsense was that?! These were supposed to be tutorial fodder, not actual threats! No, seriously, these enemies were supposed to be his introduction to **The Game** , his first steps! Why was this basic enemy's health _soaring_ above his own?! Ducking his head back into the alley, he wracked his brain for a way past the guards. Maybe he could launch a sneak attack? No, that would never work, he wouldn't be able to get both of them. But maybe he could just lure one away from the other, and take them out individually? Yeah, that might work. But how was he going to lure them away? He didn't yet know if they responded to sound at all, and he most certainly wasn't going to try revealing himself to attract one of them.

Taking another peek around the corner, his eyes roamed over the scene in its entirety as he mulled over his plan of attack. Nothing. There was only empty space between them and him, and not very many hiding places considering that the entrance to the alley between the building he was hiding behind and the hospital was well within view of the guards.

Speaking of alleyways, he hadn't actually checked the one he was hiding in, and that was simply unacceptable! What if there had been another enemy waiting in there to ambush him? He'd be dead, that's what! Turning around and observing his little hiding place, he found, predictably nothing. Still, didn't hurt to che-wait, what was that? Walking further into the alley, the object that had caught his interest was revealed to him; a frying pan, tossed haphazardly onto the ground.

Picking it up, he turned it around in his hand, finding that said pan had clear signs of age; there was rust on the handle and in spots on the bottom of the pan, as well as black scorch marks from continued use in cooking, and even a few scrapes here and there from who-knows-what. Still, it was fairly weighty, and serviceable enough as a weapon.

Using his **Observe** ability, Elliot analyzed his new weapon to see what he was dealing with.

 **[** Rusty Frying Pan **]-Item Type: [** Club **]-Weapon LV: [** 1 **]** **-** **DMG: [** 75 + STR*1.9 + DEX*0.8 + Club Proficiency*2.2 **]-Req: [** 3 STR 1 DEX **]-Durability: [** 75/75 **]-** **Item Rating: [** D **]** **-Item Rarity: [** E **]  
** **Item Desc: [** An old, rusty pan that's seen better days. More brittle than it used to be, but still pretty solid. **]**

Yeah, that was about what he expected. Honestly, one couldn't expect much else from an old cooking utensil. Still, it was much better than punching everything or stabbing enemies with shards of glass, so he'd take it. Well that was his weapon dilemma solved, but he still had to figure out how to approach the situation itself. He obviously couldn't come in from the front, then he'd have to take both on at once.

But then how was he supposed to get to his destination? Go around them and come up from behind?

...actually, that sounded like a pretty good idea. Looking up, he gazed at the relatively low roof of the building in front of him. Yeah, staying above the enemy sounded like a pretty good plan. After all, if there was anything that playing the Sly Cooper games taught him, it was that being sneaky and staying on the rooftops was A), fun as all hell, and B), a pretty effective strategy.

But that presented him with another problem; how was he supposed to climb and hold onto his frying pan at the same time? It couldn't fit in any of his pockets, and it would jostle around and make too much noise if he put it in his belt loop, not to mention how obstructive it'd be to his climbing.

Maybe he could just stow it into his inventory for now and take it out when he needed it? Sounded like a sound idea, all things considered. Doing just that, he was then free to start climbing, and climb he did. Hauling himself onto the roof of the building with a grunt of exertion, he crouched low just in case the guards happened to look up, even going so far as to pull his hood up over his head.

Still ducking down, he crouch-walked his way across the roof as silently as possible, before lowering himself down into the far end of the adjacent alleyway and then quickly-but-quietly sneaking his way across the open space, keeping an eye out for movement from the too-close-for-comfort guards. Thankfully, neither one noticed the hunched-over shadow run by before pressing itself against the side of the abandoned clinic-turned-gang-hideout.

Relieved at the success of his plan, he let out a breathless sigh, all too aware of the closeness of the armed thugs standing only several feet away from his current position.

 **[ New Skill Created!]**

 **[** Stealth **]-LV: [** 1 **]-Exp: [** 0/50 **]-Desc: [** Evade detection like a true ninja. **]  
** **-Sub Skill: [** Sneak **]-LV: [** 1 **]-Exp: [** 0/40 **]-Desc: [** As quiet as a mouse, you'll be. **]**  
 **Skill Effect: [** 10% chance to successfully evade detection while crouched. **]-** **Skill Cost: [** N/A **]**

Great. First **Thievery** , and now **Stealth** as well. He was really turning into a regular thief himself, wasn't he? Kind of made his goal of clearing out the thieves' hideout a bit hypocritical, even. But now was not the time to ponder on moral dilemmas, he had some baddies to bash! Getting over to the hospital was just step one of the plan, now it was time for step two. Retrieving the frying pan from his inventory, he quickly peered around the corner, confirming his target's height and therefore the area where he'd need to be ready to strike.

Then, looking around in his general location, he quickly spotted a rock sitting within close proximity to where he was standing. Bending down and picking up said rock, he tossed it in his palm a few times to judge its heft, before lobbing it at the ground hard enough for it to make a rather loud impact noise. The result was immediate. He heard the shifting of both enemies as they turned to face the noise (confirming that they did, in fact, react to sound), before hearing the telltale sound of footsteps.

A single pair of footsteps.

Mentally praising whatever deity had decided to watch over him, Elliot brought the arm holding the pan back, getting ready to swing. And the moment he saw the thief come around the corner, he struck, a loud clanging sound echoing loud in the still night air as the guard's body dropped like a sack of potatoes, a **206** above its head alongside both a ***headshot*** and a ***sneak attack*** notice.

(Note to self; headshot bonus plus sneak attack bonus equals _ridiculous_ damage!) He said to himself, chuckling soundlessly even as he heard the frantically approaching footsteps of the other guard upon her teammate's demise. Winding up another swing, he proceeded to also sneak attack and one-hit-kill the second guard. Not only did said action free up the entrance to the hospital, but it also gave him just enough points to level up.

 **[ Level Up!]**

 **LV: 1** **→2, HP: 70** **→130, MP: 10** **→20, Stat Points: 0** **→15**

Hmm, not as much as he was expecting, especially on the rather pitiful mana gain, but he couldn't exactly complain about it. He did, after all, only have one point in **MAG**. But now that he had a whopping fifteen points to spend, he could start boosting some stats. Maybe a few would wind up in **MAG** , who knew?

(Let's see here...) Looking over his stats, he pondered on exactly how to spend his stat points.

 **VIT** was always a winner, as that governed his ability to _not die_. **AGI** could also come in handy for dodging things, while **STR** and **DEX** were both good for handling weapons, which he could theoretically forgo in lieu of becoming a caster, and **ACC** was also necessary if he wanted to be able to hit anything from far away.

 **INT** and **WIS** were always useful, so he _had_ to boost those. **CHA** was not as immediately important as all of his other stats, so he could likely not focus on it at the moment. **LUK** was also good if you didn't want to get screwed over constantly with bad rolls or constant misses, so that was also necessary. But then what about **MAG**? That could also be pretty useful...

...but not as useful as being able to move faster, hit harder and evade better. After a few more minutes of deliberation, he made up his mind, and began distributing his points until he was satisfied. When he was done, he'd put eight points into **VIT** , one into **AGI** , two into **STR** , one into both **DEX** and **ACC** and dumped the last two into **MAG** , just because.

Now you may ask, why spend a whole eight points in **VIT**?

Well, he could tell you why; **VIT** was what governed his health and therefore his ability to _not die_ , meaning that it was a pretty reliable stat to bank on off the bat. It also likely governed his pain tolerance and resistance to bodily harm, so yes, he was going to pump the everloving hell out of **VIT** until he was reasonably sure he couldn't be one-shot by a trash mob.

Not only that, but for every point he put into **VIT** and **MAG** , both his maximum health and mana had increased by ten respectively.

 **[ Stats Up!]**

 **HP: 130** **→210, MP: 20** **→40, VIT: 6** **→14, AGI: 9** **→10, STR: 8** **→10, DEX: 11** **→12, ACC: 13** **→14, MAG: 1** **→3, Stat Points: 15** **→0**

With that taken care of, he looked down to see if either phantom had dropped anything, but unfortunately their weaponry had disappeared with them, and so he was still stuck with the frying pan. Slightly disappointed, he shrugged, and then he walked to the front entrance of the building, grasped both door handles and pushed the doors wide open.

...at least, that's what he _tried_ to do. In actuality, the doors shook slightly on their hinges, but otherwise stayed firmly shut.

(What?) Why hadn't they opened? Were the doors 'pull' only? Grabbing the handles once more, he attempted to yank them open with force, to no avail. No, no they were not in fact pull doors. Were the doors locked, then? No, he could turn the handles just fine. By all accounts, the doors should've swung open. So what was wrong then? Eyes roaming over the door, he could find no outward reason for it to prevent him from opening it. Perhaps the hinges had rusted shut?

No, they didn't look _that_ old. But then what was the problem? Hmm'ing to himself, he peered through the glass window to see if he could spy anything.

(...oh. So that's the problem.) An investigatory look inside the building presented him with the culprit; a crowbar, wedged in-between the handles of the _other side_ of the door, effectively barring him from getting inside.

Or in other words, he was locked out.

"God dammit." Elliot swore exasperatedly. Really, he was locked out of the dungeon? How was he supposed to progress? Was he expected to just brute force the doors open? No, that would never work. Oh! Maybe there was another route into the building? Yeah, that had to be it! And so, he began a trek all around the building, trying to find an entry point. But unfortunately for him, every single conceivable entrance was in a similar state of impassibility. And so he arrived back at the front of the building, with nothing to show for his effort.

(This is ridiculous.) Honestly, why couldn't the doors just be open? Really, if not for his sake, then for the guards who'd been standing in front of the door itself (at least before he'd killed them, anyway). How were they expected to get in? Did they just call their buddies inside and ask to be let in? Sighing in irritation, his eyes began trailing up the building in idle curiosity.

And that was when he saw it, his ticket inside; a fire escape leading all the way to the roof of the building. Well, it was less a fire escape and more an absurdly long ladder, but still! It led to the top of the building, where (hopefully) he could get inside the building. And so, going around to the side of the building, he began the long and arduous task of climbing to the top of the hospital.

And considering how tall the building was, said task would be very arduous indeed. But he wouldn't get anywhere by complaining, so he just kept climbing.

And climbing.

And climbing.

And climbing.

(Goddamn Snake Eater ass ladder.)

* * *

Six minutes later, he finally reached the roof of the abandoned hospital, thankfully feeling none the worse for wear (he thanked **Gamer's Body** for that one). Striding over to the door leading into the hospital, he turned the handle and pulled, finding that, thankfully, this entrance wasn't closed, and therefore all of his climbing hadn't been a waste of time.

 **Congratulations!**

But before he could go any further, a message popped up in his face, almost startling him enough for him to yelp and potentially alert the nearby guards.

 **(You've made it to the end of the first half of the tutorial! But now comes the second half; dungeon delving!**

 **Make it through this dungeon and defeat the boss within, and you'll have completed the tutorial!**

 **Have fun!**

(Yes, because that sounds _so_ easy.) Sure, just clear out an entire gang hideout and take down their boss. No biggie.

That was sarcasm, by the way.

Grumbling grumpily to himself, he hesitantly entered the stairwell, gently closing the door behind him before bringing out his frying pan and cautiously descending the flight of stairs all the way to the top floor of the hospital. And the moment that he was out of the stairwell and into the hospital proper, two things happened simultaneously.

One, the door slammed shut behind him, causing him to jump and let out a startled bark. And two, the name of the dungeon itself popped up in front of him.

 **"Blackwood General Hospital"**

(Greeeaaat.) He grumbled sarcastically. (A creepy old hospital full of gang members. This'll be _fun_.) That, again, was sarcasm. He had the distinct feeling that this _would not_ , in fact, be fun at all. And if that weren't bad enough, attempting to open the door to the stairwell told him that it had been locked, effectively trapping him in the dungeon until he either cleared it or died. Yippee.

Still, he couldn't beat the tutorial and therefore get on with his life until he conquered this dungeon, so he had to keep going. Steeling himself, he took a deep breath, and began his descent into Blackwood General.

* * *

 **Well, there you have it, the first chapter of Gaming: DxD, the remastered edition! Once again, I can't apologize enough for how late this is. I mean, honestly! Almost four whole months?! How much of a lazy bastard am I? Even with the whole 'losing my laptop' thing, I still should've at least had a chapter or two out by now! Man, I really need a better work ethic, don't I?**

 **Oh, but enough about me. If you've gotten this far, then thank you for giving this a read! I hope you enjoyed!**

 **Now, I would like to assuage some concerns some of you may have. First off, no, I am not going to flood the story with 'Gamer' related stuff every few sentences. The only reason it's like this in this chapter is because this is the _first_ chapter, and I had to explain how everything works. Trust me, this is the worst it'll get in regards to clutter. Every chapter after this will have much more game-free content, I promise.**

 **And for those of you questioning the inclusion of ten stats (you know who you are), I have this to say to you; I've chosen these specific stats for a reason. Yes, there are indeed more than in the original version of this story, and yes, it will make my job a bit harder, but I feel that these are story elements which need to include for reasons that would spoil the plot so I can't tell you, sorry.**

 **And as for what these stats actually mean, here you go!**

 **VITality: Governs overall health and endurance; resistance to damage and pain tolerance.  
** **AGIlity: Governs physical agility and muscular reaction time.**  
 **STRength: Governs physical strength and muscular durability.**  
 **DEXterity: Governs physical dexterity and muscular coordination.**  
 **ACCuracy: Governs hand-eye coordination in regards to long-ranged weaponry (EX: Guns, throwing knives, etc.).  
** **INTelligence: Governs ability to retain knowledge and comprehend complexities (puzzles, devices etc.).  
** **WISdom: Governs decision making skills and perceptiveness.  
** **CHArisma: Governs persuasiveness of speech and outward charm.  
** **LUcK: Governs positive or negative aspect of random chance, critical hit percentage and item drop rates.  
** **MAGic: Governs magical capability and overall mana pool.**

 **Well, that's all for right now! Once again,** **I hope you enjoyed!**

 **EyesOfChaos, signing off!**


	2. Do Not Resuscitate

**Hey there! EyesOfChaos here delivering the second chapter of Gaming DxD! Boy, I didn't expect such a positive reception considering it took me four whole months to finally get this rewrite out! But regardless, thank you for giving this a read! It does my heart good to see that someone is entertained by something I created. That is, after all, why I'm writing this!**

 **But now, it's time to respond to reviews!**

 **Zentari2238-** **wiki/Race_(human_classification)**

 **frankieu- Thank you for taking time to read this! And no, writing on mobile is most definitely _not_ fun. And as for Elliot's sacred gear... you might get some answers in this chapter.**

 **Kshail- Thank you for the honest critique. It always helps to know what works and what doesn't so for you to take the time to try and help me correct any mistakes is greatly appreciated. But as for the MC not being able to summon his sacred gear; well, I don't know if you read that entire scene (it's perfectly fine if you didn't), but Elliot didn't check his skill list because his status told him that it was dormant, which therefore means it wouldn't show up anywhere, least of all his skill list.**

 **Also, I'm sorry to hear that you didn't like the tutorial, but a tutorial isn't _supposed_ to 'go anywhere', it's supposed to teach the player how the Game works.**

 **RadioPoisoning- As I said in the previous chapter, every chapter from now on will have (hopefully) a good balance between story and Gamer content.**

 **Secondly, where balancing is concerned, don't you worry about that. That's for me and my handy dandy calculator to take care of.**

 **Thirdly, there's a reason I've included Fiction Adaptation in this story that I can't reveal right now because spoilers. Sorry.**

 **And as for our MC's fighting style, you've seen a bit of how he plays already, but as he gets new gear and skills it'll slowly evolve. And once again, I can't answer any of those other questions without spoilers, so sorry~**

 **Guest (1)- Uhh, I never actually thought of that when I dropped that line. It was just supposed to be a little humor, but now that you've mentioned it I can't help but imagine if the Touhou girls were a part of High School DxD. That... would be ludicrous.**

 **Spice- I want you to understand that I'm not trying to be rude when I say that you're expecting a bit too much a bit too soon. I mean really, that was the _first_ chapter, which was primarily focused on explaining Game mechanics in order to avoid confusion rather than exploring the MC's character.**

 **Furthermore, I believe in organic story progression; learning more and more about a character bit by bit as the story goes on until you have a complete grasp on who they are. Which means that, unlike a good percentage of writers in this fandom (not trying to poke fun at any of them), I'm not going to splatter the entirety of the MC's personality and backstory onto the first few chapters of the story.**

 **Or in other words, you're going to have to keep reading if you want to get to know the protagonist of this story.**

 **Oh, and that second question is spoilers, so I can't tell you~**

 **Guest (UnwillingHaremKing)- I know, right? So much easier than running up to someone and smacking them with a sword until they fall down.**

 **Notsae- Thats... an interesting philosophy on life, I guess.**

 **swagerness- Yes, again. This _is_ a rewrite, after all, try not to act so surprised.**

 **ImBoredSoITypeShit- Well, here you go then!**

 **Lazymanjones96 & ****LordXeenTheGreat-** **Thank you kindly!**

 **dennieboy- Well, thank you for being so loyal despite what little I originally delivered! I can only hope that I can actually make this one great.**

* * *

 **Prologue  
Act Two  
"Do Not Resuscitate"**

 **After having awoken in an unfamiliar environment, Elliot Winterveil was greeted by a strange entity known only as 'The Game' that offered to allow him to live a better life. Elliot, after some thought, accepted this offer, and was summarily made a 'Gamer', an individual gifted with powers that allow them to behave like video game characters.**

 **His first battle happened not long after, as he encountered a shadowfiend that was in the middle of robbing a jewelry store. After a quick skirmish, Elliot emerged victorious, his first taste of combat being a decidedly sweet one.** **Be that as it may, he had accrued his fair share of damage, and so took a quick break so that he could face the next challenge fighting-fit.**

 **But not all heroes are altruistic, and it was thus that, after assessing the damage to the aforementioned jewelry store, Elliot could not resist the temptation to take what was inside for himself, robbing the place blind even more than the shadowfiend had.**

 **Elliot continued on with his journey, defeating several more shadowfiends before encountering his first obstacle; the entrance to the building he was supposed to access was guarded by two armed thugs. Knowing that fighting both goons head-on was foolishness, Elliot decided that stealth would be his greatest asset in this situation.**

 **Going the roundabout way of climbing the rooftops, Elliot chanced upon a weapon in one of the alleyways that would allow him to fight on somewhat even ground with his adversaries. And so, now armed, Elliot attracted the attention of the guards, and took them out one by one. After doing so, he attempted to enter the building, only to be rebuffed by the locked front doors.**

 **Befuddled, Elliot searched around the entire building for a way in, but it was only when he noticed the fire escape when he realized that his way in, was _up_. After climbing for several minutes, Elliot finally reached the top of the abandoned hospital that was to be his first dungeon, and was thankfully rewarded with an unlocked entrance.**

 **It was thus that he began his journey through the first of many trials-clearing out the den of the Shade Gang.**

* * *

As he crept down the hall, the foremost thought that came to Elliot's mind was how utterly eerie it all was. Firstly, it was utterly dark, with only the moonlight streaming in through the windows to guide his way. Secondly, the place was downright oppressive, with that run-down, grungy look that most horror games went for; the paint on the walls was peeling, the tile flooring was either chipped, cracked or outright missing, and there was mold and mildew stains everywhere, the fault being the massive stains on the ceiling from where rain had leaked in.

Though, that didn't exactly account for the _other_ stains, the splotchy ones that were a dark, faded brown, and could be seen on everything; the walls, the floor, the various objects in the hall and even the ceiling. And that wasn't even mentioning the graffiti left by the supposed 'Shade Gang' that he was here to eliminate.

Even more than that, the entire place didn't just look abandoned, it looked _abandoned_ , like everyone in the building had simply vanished into thin air all at once. There were doors still ajar, as though the person using it had simply stopped in the middle of doing so, a gurney was in the middle of the hallway, as though the medical staff that had been pushing it had simply stopped and left it there, various medical supplies had been dropped to the floor, like the one holding them had outright vanished.

But worst of all, even further than all of that, was the fact that despite its evidently many years of abandonment, it _still_ smelled like a hospital. Mixing in with the odor of mold, mildew and rot was the clinical aroma of an area that saw frequent chemical usage, still as strong as when the building was still in good condition. And it was _not_ a pleasant smell at all, he could assure you.

(What in the hell happened here?) This was his first dungeon? A goddamn _horror game_ setting? Was _anything_ going to go his way today?!

Suddenly, the sound of approaching footsteps began to echo from down the hallway, accompanied by the faint clacking of claws against tile. Eyes widening slightly, he looked around for a place to hide, before spotting a nearby door that had been left ajar, and quickly dashed into the room as quietly as possible.

Unfortunately, his plans of being quiet were ruined when his frying pan got caught in the door, being yanked out of his hand as it clattered rather loudly to the floor. Said blunder was immediately followed up by the footsteps from earlier marching quickly toward his location, in the midst of which was the sound of something being pulled out of a sling, closely followed by something metallic hitting someone's palm. Letting out a breathless squeal, he briefly contemplated attempting to pick up his fallen weapon, but the footsteps that sounded dangerously close to the room quickly squashed that idea.

Instead, he kicked the handle of said weapon so that it was sent out of the doorway, before quickly slamming the door closed and locking it. Knowing that said action likely wouldn't stop the armed enemy for long, he frantically looked around the room, searching for a place to hide before the now almost-outside-the-door footsteps reached him. Said room was, typical of a hospital, a patient sickroom, with two beds on opposing sides of said room, a desk beside each and a curtain between them. There was also, horrifically, a large amount of dried blood all over one of the beds, along with numerous surgery tools that were also stained with blood.

The fact that said bed was the closest one to him did not help one bit, but seeing as the footsteps sounded like they were right outside of the door, he didn't have very many options at the moment. And so, with great displeasure, he dove underneath the bloody hospital bed, crawling into place so that no part of his body was showing.

That was just as well, considering that the moment both of his feet were entirely under the bed, the owner of the footsteps finally reached the door, jiggling the handle futilely before peering into the room through the window. Said enemy then (assumedly) looked down at the fallen kitchen utensil, before picking it up and inspecting it. What it thought of it, he didn't know, but what he did know was that the sound of metal snapping reported shortly afterward, followed up by the sound of two different metal objects clattering to the floor.

Then the goon began to bash the lock open with whatever object it was holding, each hit rattling the door violently as the lock slowly became more and more loose. When the lock-and by extension, the handle-finally gave way, the enemy came bursting into the room, the telltale visage of a shadowfiend emerging from within the doorway. Quieting his breathing, he stood as still as possible as the shady (hah) mook swept its eyeless gaze across the room, breath hitching silently as its weapon of choice came into view.

A wrench.

A very, _very_ large wrench, easily capable of splitting his skull open if given the chance.

( **Observe**!)

 **[ Observation]**

 **Personal Information  
[**Shadowfiend **]** **  
Name: [** Malik **]  
** **Age: [** 45 **]**  
 **Race: [** N/A **]**  
 **Gender: [** Male **]**

 **Title(s): [** N/A **]  
** **Class(es): [** Phantom Thief (Legbreaker) **]  
** **Alignment: [** Shade Gang **]  
** **Sacred Gear:** **[** N/A|Dormant **]**

 **General Stats  
LV:** 2 **  
HP:** 670/670 **  
** **MP:** N/A

 **Physical Stats**  
 **VIT:** 7 (0)  
 **AGI:** 1 (0)  
 **STR:** 7 (0)  
 **DEX:** 3 (0)  
 **ACC:** 4 (0)

 **Mental Stats**  
 **INT:** 4 (0)  
 **WIS:** 3 (0)  
 **CHA:** 6 (0)

 **Metaphysical Stats  
** **LUK:** 2 (0) **  
** **MAG:** 0 (0)

 **Perks/Buffs/Debuffs** **  
** **N/A**

 **Quick Character Bio  
"A shady goon, in more ways than one."**

 **Drops  
20 exp, 11-30 gold, Monkey Wrench (5%)**

Praying that the thug simply lost interest and moved on, his heart leapt into his throat as, against his desires, Malik instead came further into the room, and began stalking over to one of the beds. Thankfully, he chose the bed opposite the one Elliot was hiding under, and so he had a few more precious moments to come up with a plan of action.

Thinking quickly, he quietly slid partially out of cover on the side of the bed opposite the armed goon, before reaching his arm up and trying to find something suitable to use as a weapon. Sweeping his fingers over bloody surgery instruments, his hand eventually collided with something that was pointy on the end, and so he quickly clasped his hand around it and dragged it back down with him, before moving all the way back under the bed.

 **[ New Skill Created!]**

 **[** Stealth **]-LV: [** 1 **]-Exp: [** 12/50 **]-Desc: [** Evade detection like a true ninja. **]  
** **-Sub Skill: [** Sneak **]-LV: [** 1 **]-Exp: [** 6/40 **]-Desc: [** As quiet as a mouse, you'll be. **]**  
 **Skill Effect: [** 10% chance to successfully evade detection while crouched. **]-** **Skill Cost: [** N/A **]  
** **-Sub Skill: [** Hide **]-LV: [** 1 **]-Exp: [** 0/40 **]-Desc: [** They'll never find you! **] *NEW*** **  
****Skill Effect: [** 10% chance to successfully evade detection while in hiding. **]-Skill Cost: [** N/A **]**

A useful skill, but unimportant at the moment. He could celebrate later. For now, he looked down at the item in his hands. A solid steel scalpel, razor sharp and cold to the touch. Oh, and also covered in dried blood. Hooray.

( **Observe**.)

 **[ Item Observation]**

 **[** Scalpel **]-Item Type: [** Dagger **]-Weapon LV: [** 1 **]** **-** **DMG: [** 44 + DEX*5.8 + Dagger Proficiency*3.7 **]-Req: [** 10 DEX **]-Durability: [** 60/60 **]** **Item Rating: [** C **]-Item Rarity: [** D **]** **  
** **Item Desc: [** An exceedingly sharp tool used in surgery to make fine incisions. **]**

...well, at least it had absurdly high **DEX** scaling.

His grip tightened on the surgery tool as the phantom goon finished examining the opposite side of the room and began walking over to the bed he was hiding under. Remaining as quiet as possible, Elliot thought of how to get the drop on him, coming up empty as the thug thankfully got distracted by the bloody tools on-top of his hiding spot, earning him an extra few seconds to think. Now if only he could actually come up with an idea...

Unfortunately, none came to mind at the moment. He wasn't fast enough to jet past the thug, nor was he strong enough to wrest the wrench out of Malik's hands without stunning him first. And because he was prone, it would take him a moment to get into a position where stabbing Malik with the scalpel would actually do any respectable amount of damage. Or in other words, he was F-U-C-K screwed.

In his desperation, he attempted to reach down once more into the well of power that had settled into his soul, and call upon his sacred gear. And still nothing happened. Why? What was he doing wrong? Was it incompatible with his soul or something? Or was he just doing it wrong? He almost released a dejected sigh before realizing that would make too much noise and catch the crook's attention.

(...wait, catch his attention, of course!) Suddenly, a metaphorical lightbulb went off in his head as he realized how to solve the problem at hand. Fishing a shard of glass from out of his inventory, he tossed it out from under the bed so that it skittered along the floor, creating a suitably loud noise as it skipped across the tiling. Immediately alerted, the thug whipped around, winding up the wrench in his hands as though it were a baseball bat.

Taking that as his cue, he quickly slipped out from under the bed, the action gaining the attention of his target, who turned around to face the commotion. Unfortunately for Malik, Elliot turned with him, still ending up at Malik's exposed back as he stopped, facing where Elliot had just been. Acting quickly, he wrapped one arm around the thug's torso, trapping Malik's arms against his sides in the process (one of the few times he was glad for his relatively gangly limbs), and pulled Malik's body snugly against his to make sure he couldn't pry himself free.

Elliot then stuck the scalpel into the back of Malik's neck before he could try to wrestle free, an inky black smoke leaking out (was that shadowfiend's blood?). In his shock, the wrench-wielding mook dropped his weapon, therefore sealing his fate as he futilely attempted to break Elliot's hold, the goon wiggling furiously and fruitlessly as Elliot drove the blade deeper in, scoring side to side as he slowly dug a deep gouge all the way around Malik's neck.

Malik's struggling slowly ceased as he ran out of **HP** , his smoke-like blood finally beginning to run out. Not letting go until the thug began to dissipate in his arms, Elliot then uncurled his arm from around Malik's rapidly disappearing body, idly twirling the scalpel in his hand. Just as before, the enemy's weapon disappeared with him, Elliot's absurdly low drop rate denying him any kind of proper weapon. Giving a slight grunt of irritation, he walked over to and sat on top of the cleaner of the two sickbeds as he attempted to relax and calm down.

(I thought this was supposed to be an RPG, not a horror game! What was that noise?! No, seriously, it was like that entire scenario had been perfectly calculated to leave me defenseless and terrified while a looming figure hunted for me! That was not at all okay!)

...did I say calm down? I meant vent his frustration.

After getting that out of his system, he did indeed calm down, swiping a hand through his curly hair as he came down from his mental outburst. And speaking of which, how was he even able to let his emotions ride that high? Wasn't **Gamer's Mind** supposed to prevent him from doing that? Or did it just allow him to always think rationally, but he could still get furious or terrified? Dammit, this was what happened when descriptions were too ambiguous!

Grunting in irritation, he stopped pursuing that line of thought and instead turned his thoughts to his goal, which was, once again, clearing the dungeon and defeating the boss. Looking down at the scalpel in his hand, he couldn't help but feel that it was, ironically, a poor tool for this operation, at least unless he constantly went for sneak attacks. Which may not always be an option, in which case he'd be screwed.

Why couldn't things just be easy? This was the _tutorial_ , for God's sake! Why did the basic enemies have such higher health than him?! And for that matter, why couldn't his stupid sacred gear just work?!

Taking in a deep breath, he exhaled slowly, calming himself down before steeling his gaze. It didn't matter how many well-armed thugs he had to face, just like it didn't matter that his sacred gear wouldn't activate. He _would_ make it out of here alive.

Now, if only he could figure out how to gain a proficiency skill, then he'd have another damage modifier to boost his attack rating even higher! That, at the very least, would slightly suffice to mitigate the various disadvantages he was currently suffering.

Standing up off of the bed, he exited the room, closing the door on his way out, before looking down at the two halves of his former weapon and giving a silent, lament to the much more useful improvised weapon.

It would be missed. May it forever fry eggs and bacon in that great big kitchen in the sky.

* * *

Resuming his cautious march down the hallways, he was relieved to find that there were no more enemies on the current floor. After checking every door to see if they were locked (which they all were, further proof that the prior scene had been a 'scripted event'), he made his way down to the next floor. Compared to the floor above it, he could almost immediately hear several sets of footsteps patrolling the halls. Talk about stepping up security.

Gazing down at his dinky little scalpel once more, he let out a quiet gulp before pressing onward into the hall, looking to his left and to his right. To his left, there was the retreating figure of a shadowfiend, and to his right was the rapidly approaching figure of one, a rusty pipe clutched in their clawed hands.

...

...well, there went his element of surprise.

 **[ Enemy]  
James (LV: 2)  
HP: 650/650  
MP: N/A**

 **VS**

 **[** **Player** **]  
Elliot Winterveil (LV: 2)  
HP: 210/210  
MP: 40/40**

(Oh, this one's named James.) Gripping the small surgeon's blade till his knuckles went white, he prepared to deal with the charging foe. Side-stepping James' sloppy swing, Elliot aimed a thrust at his neck, which James just barely twisted out of the way of, still being grazed in the process. In response, he sent a wide swing at Elliot's midsection, which he was forced to awkwardly shuffle out of the way of, putting him out of melee range in the process.

Ducking back in, Elliot took a quick swipe at his opponent, catching him across the face as he couldn't react fast enough to dodge. In return, however, he got caught on the shoulder as he shifted to the side, forcing a low grunt out of him, his upper body shifting awkwardly with the blow. Quickly retaliating, he hurled the scalpel point-blank into the thief's face, embedding it right into where James' left eye would've been, hoping to finish him off quickly.

Instead, he was forced to let himself fall down in order to avoid a heavy, enraged blow aimed at his head, the injured thug swinging with all his might in an effort to separate Elliot's head from his shoulders. Taking advantage of his low position, Elliot swept the thief's legs out from under him, following it up by quickly rushing over and removing his scalpel from the phantom's face, before repeatedly stabbing his dazed enemy in the neck, an iron-like grip on the blade's handle, as a rush of smoke escaped from James' wounds.

Within seconds, his prone opponent began to fizzle just like the rest of his kind, and soon nothing of him was left. Unfortunately not even his weapon. Dammit.

He was given no time to rest, however, as his senses warned him of another shadowfiend running at him from behind! Turning slightly to the side and dropping down to avoid the swipe aimed at his head, he planted his arms into the ground and caught himself while at the same time sticking his leg out, tripping the second thug and causing them to fall flat on their 'face', the golf club they'd had been wielding clattering to the ground.

But before he could get up to finish off his newest opponent, a _third_ one rounded the corner, this one packing a pair of _Uzis_! Rolling out of the way of a spray of lead, he winced as he felt a couple shots punch into his leg, thankfully popping right back out with their entry points sealing shut due to **Gamer's Body** , but still ticking away at his health nonetheless. Picking himself off of the floor hastily, he made a mad dash down the hall, running from the trigger-happy gunman and their barehanded compatriot as his mind reeled for a way out of his situation.

(How many bullets does this guy have?!) Acting quickly, he began yanking on all of the handles he passed by, his stomach slowly sinking as all of them remained firmly locked. Reaching the end of the hallway, he ducked behind the corner just as a hail of bullets began to spray down the hall, impacting the wall behind him with great force.

Sprinting down another hallway (an act that he was getting sick of), he tried all of the doors in _that_ corridor, finding that, once again, they were locked. Worse still, the door to the floor below him shot open, revealing _five_ _more_ goons, which also joined in the chase. Cursing his horrible luck (ironic, considering his relatively high **LUK** stat), he led them all on a merry chase throughout the floor, throwing shards of glass behind him in an attempt to at least wound some of them.

Most of the shards, however, missed, and he soon ran out of them, which meant that he could only run for his life as he desperately ducked and dodged the bullets flying at him. Finally reaching the end of the floor, he yanked the door open, before dashing down the stairs to the floor that the extra shadowfiends had come from, slamming the door shut and locking it in the process.

Once more, he knew that said countermeasure wouldn't stop them for long, and so looked around for a hiding spot. But instead of a hiding spot, he found something much, much better. Something that would allow him to put an end to all of the mooks behind that door in one fell swoop, and something they definitely shouldn't have left unattended. And as he moved toward it, he couldn't help but voice his thoughts out loud.

"Oh, this is going to be _fantastic_."

* * *

Finally busting down the lock, all of the enemies spilled out into the hall at once, fumbling over themselves and each other as they struggled to right themselves.

"Hello~"

But before any of them could stand all the way up, they came face to face with a deviously grinning Elliot, holding onto something that gave them pause-no, genuine terror as they stared at it.

A bandolier.

Of grenades.

The pins of which were all wrapped around Elliot's fingers.

Before any of them could react, the pins had been collectively pulled and the bandolier had been tossed on-top of the conglomerate of bodies, which hurriedly wriggled and squirmed in an attempt to untangle themselves from one another.

"Goodbye~"

But not a single one of them was fast enough, and all of the grenades detonated atop the pile of goons, blowing them all to smithereens and netting Elliot a large chunk of **exp** and **gold**. Somehow, though, the floor and walls came out completely unscathed, aside from some scorch marks that looked like they'd come out relatively easily. Must have been due to this whole building being a construct of **T** **he** **Game** rather than a real building. Either that, or it was far more structurally sound than he thought it was.

Idly, he wondered what those shadowfiend's names were, and vaguely lamented not getting to observe them all. Oh, well. Such is the fate of those who gang up on people.

 **[ Level Up!]**

 **LV: 2** **→3, HP: 210** **→350, MP: 40** **→70, Stat Points: 0** **→30**

Well, if that wasn't just the icing on the exploding cake. Pulling up his status screen, he began distributing points, putting just one point into **VIT** this time, while putting five points into both **AGI** and **STR** , three points into **DEX** , one in **ACC** and three in both **CHA** and **LUK**. He'd keep the other nine for later.

Y'know, just in case he needed a boost in **HP** or something.

 **[ Stats Up!]**

 **HP: 350** **→360,** **VIT: 14** **→15, AGI: 10** **→15, STR: 10** **→15, DEX: 12** **→15, ACC: 14** **→15, CHA: 7** **→10** **LUK: 12** **→15,** **Stat Points: 30** **→9**

Dismissing the status screen, his head turned to the stairwell down to the next floor as the sound of rapidly approaching footsteps grew louder and more furious. He just couldn't get a break, could he? Heaving a resigned sigh, he ducked behind a corner just as four more shadowfiends burst through the door. The one in the lead held a rusty-looking machete in their hands, while the two flanking them each had a dagger, and the one taking up the rear had a...

...a saber? Where had one of these knuckleheads found an actual goddamn _saber_? Why was this game being so goddamn _unfair_?! He had a scalpel. A _scalpel_.

Calming himself down, his eyes flitted from figure to figure as he thought up a plan. He couldn't face them head on, he knew that much. He'd get torn to shreds nigh-on immediately.

...but then again, he didn't have to fight them head on, now did he?

Quietly rounding the corner, Elliot waited for the gaggle of goons to pass further down the hall before circling behind them, slowly creeping up on them as they stopped in their tracks to investigate the source of the explosion. Singling out the sword wielding crook, he crept up behind them before violently plunging his weapon into the back of the thug's neck (he was doing a lot of neck-stabbing lately), and then quickly circling to the side of it and yanking the sword out of their hands, using the momentum to arc the blade into and _through_ its previous owners' neck, the goon's cleanly severed head sailing through the air.

The other three enemies, now alerted to his presence, rounded on him angrily, weapons bared. The leftmost enemy quickly swung at him, aiming for his throat, but a broad, two-handed swing of the blade sent the knife skittering. Along with most of the thug's arm. He followed up his swing with a quick upward thrust of the weapon, impaling the crook's head on the sword, before partially turning and intercepting an attack from his right side by grabbing the second knife-wielder's wrist.

Crushing the thug's wrist in his suddenly ludicrously strong grip and forcing them to drop their weapon, he then yanked them forward just in time to take the bullet-or rather, the blade-from the final mook, whose machete poked out from the rib-cage of the goon he'd used as a (subjectively) human shield.

Pushing the dissipating corpse of the first knife-wielder off of his sword, he then brought the blade up over his head and swung it down in a vicious two-handed blow that split open his last adversary's head like a melon, their corpse sliding off of his blade and landing at his feet as he pulled the blade backward, before spinning it in front of him and then coolly sliding it into his belt.

Releasing a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding, he simply stood still as he let the past five seconds catch up with him.

"...since when could I even do that?" He muttered to himself. He'd never taken any sword lessons or even held a blade in his life, so where had all of that even come from? He hadn't even _meant_ to do any of that, it had just happened!

...was that **The Game's** doing?

Was that some kind of pre-animated takedown? Did **The Game** have pre-animated takedown moves? Because if so...

...then that was kind of cool. Weird and intrusive, but cool.

Besides, even if that _had_ been **The Game** at work, it wasn't exactly _detrimental_. In fact, he could find several positives for **The Game** guiding his hand every once in a while, especially if he didn't know what he was doing. But still, where in the hell did these low-level mooks find this kind of weaponry? Sure, some of them had been using knives and guns, but you could buy (or steal, in this case) those rather easily. 17th century swords, however, not such an easy find. Had these thieves raided a museum or something?

Oh, well. Either way, he had a _real_ weapon now. He honestly would've preferred at least one of those Uzis from the other shadowfiend, but a sword would do just fine for clearing out the rest of-

His sword was gone.

"oh, come on now!" He'd been holding onto this one! He'd had it in his hands! Why wouldn't this stupid game just let him have any good gear?! God, was he just going to have a scalpel for the rest of-

 _His scalpel was also gone._

(...are you kidding me?) Now the game was taking items away from him? Seriously? What, because he dropped it for like five seconds meant that he lost it forever? What kind of stupid logic was that? Now he didn't have a weapon of any kind! Deflating with an indignant huff, he allowed himself to lean against a nearby wall as he contemplated how much harder his work had just become.

No weapons. No means of defense. No idea what the hell he was going to walk into next. No idea how to use his _goddamn_ sacred gear. He really was just fumbling around in the dark, wasn't he?

Oh, well. Severe handicap or no, he wouldn't make it anywhere if he kept standing around, and so he moved on, despite the feelings of trepidation slowly growing in his gut.

* * *

As he would soon find out, the next floor was the ground floor lobby. Despite the ridiculous height of the hospital itself, the overly-long stairwells had assured that there were actually very few floors to the old building. And while that seemed like a feat of poor architectural engineering in his eyes, he wasn't going to complain. The less work he had to do to get to his destination, the better.

Said floor was also mercifully free of enemies, as he found out after a long and cautious sweep of the area. Unfortunately, said floor was also unmercifully free of any useful items, like, say, _weapons_ , improvised or otherwise. There was nothing there of any worth or use except for the various couches and chairs that had been left in the waiting area, which now had poker chips and cards strewn about. This must've been where the Shade Gang sat down to relax.

From said floor, there was a stairwell that led further into the dungeon, one with a dark miasma-like cloud surrounding it that simply screamed 'boss area', and so he decided not to go down there just yet. Instead, he tried all of the doors leading to different parts of the hospital, but found no luck, as they too were all locked. Why was every door locked in this stupid hospital? Sure, it was a tutorial dungeon, but still! Way to kill the sense of exploration.

Bereft of any other options, Elliot began to make his way toward the ominous stairwell, an equally ominous message popping up the moment he was standing just in front of it.

 **WARNING : Boss Zone incoming! Once you go down here, you can't come back!  
**

 **Enter the Boss zone?**

 **[YES] [NO]**

(Oh, gee, how _inviting_!) Clicking 'no' for now, he backed away from the creepy stairwell and retreated further into the main lobby. Now that he knew he wouldn't be able to come back, he would wait until he made absolutely sure that there was nothing else to explore or find before he went down there. But first and foremost, he was gonna take himself a well deserved break.

Walking over to and sitting down in one of the leather chairs in the waiting area of the lobby, he leaned back and got himself situated as he relaxed himself, slowly removing the tension from his body and the frustration from his mind as he ruminated over what had happened to him so far that day. He'd woken up outside of his own universe, found out that multiple realities existed, gained **Gamer** powers and essentially became a multiverser, almost died multiple times in an alarmingly short succession, and somehow survived being assaulted and chased despite being woefully short on tools to defend himself with.

Three hours. All of those things had happened in the span of only three hours. Just three hours ago he'd been peacefully dreaming in his bed, blissfully ignorant of everything he was currently experiencing. And this was his life now. He only had more pain and ridiculousness to look forward to where he was going.

How spectacular.

Letting out a mellow sigh, Elliot sank further into his chair as he attempted to counteract his bad mood by analyzing the positives of his current situation. For one, he was basically superhuman now. He didn't have to eat, drink or sleep anymore, he'd never have to go to the bathroom again and he could never get tired (a trait that he'd put to good use not a few minutes ago). He was also, for the most part, immune to physical injury and could never suffer permanent damage, which meant that the amount of punishment he could tolerate was ludicrous in scope.

He'd also been given his own special mcguffin, and though he hadn't figured out how to use it as of yet, it was still a plus.

Speaking of which, maybe he should give summoning it another shot? After all, he _was_ sufficiently stronger than before, so maybe he was powerful enough to use it now? Reaching down into himself, he metaphorically tugged at the presence that had settled itself into his core, poking and prodding it as he attempted to elicit a response. And imagine his surprise when, contrary to the other times he'd tried, he felt it respond, reaching back out to him as though asking for him to pull it from his soul.

Well, not literally, but that was the only way he could describe the odd-yet-pleasing sensation of the sacred gear within him finally responding to his probing touch.

Taking that as a sign to keep going, he jumped up to his feet and walked toward the center of the room in a hurry, a giddy smile on his face before he schooled himself into calmness. Taking a deep breath, he shifted into Jotaro's famous pointing pose, holding said pose in trepidation as, for a few brief moments, nothing happened. And then something began to form on his right arm, and he could no longer tame his excitement, erupting in quiet, bubbly giggles as his sacred gear manifested for the first time.

At the same time, a powerful, invigorating warmth spread throughout his body, making him feel as though he'd been laying on a flat rock out in the midday sun. He blinked once. Then blinked again, this time far more slowly, his arms dropping to his side with a relaxed expression on his face. This feeling was... pleasant. So pleasant, in fact, that he fell into a trance-like state as he simply let the feeling wash over him like waves on a beach. Warm. So warm, so nice...

...zzz...

...zzz...

...zz-*thump* (huh?!)

What? What happened? When had he closed his eyes? Why was he on the floor? Had he... had he fallen asleep? He had, hadn't he? Sitting up, he shook his head in order to clear his mind of the hazy warmth, simply sitting down as he allowed the feeling to pass. Before he knew it, the warm feeling was gone as fast as it had arrived, so fast that he was shocked when the contrasting cold air of the hospital enveloped him once more, causing him to involuntarily shudder as it crept up his spine.

Well... that happened.

Having broken out of his trance, he realized that he hadn't actually seen what his sacred gear was, and so brought his arm up to his face, studying the sacred gear that had form upon his arm. The sacred gear in question was a large, bulky gauntlet that looked more akin to a toy than an actual weapon, and covered his right arm from the elbow down, with his fingers left exposed. Said gauntlet was an inky black color, and had two silver, hornlike protrusions on the side, a groove in the middle with a pearl white ovular jewel in the center, and ended with a disklike head that featured a second, deep pink spherical jewel that was far larger than the first one, in the center of which was what looked like a contained explosion.

Or in other words, it was a Twice Critical.

"Really? A Twice Critical? The most _basic_ sacred gear in existence?!" He shouted, his face having shifted from a gleeful smile to an indignant frown. That was what he'd been waiting on all this time?! That was what he hadn't been ready for until now?!

...well, that actually made a lot of sense considering he'd gotten it as a starting item in a tutorial. It's not like **The Game** was going to give him some high-level sacred gear right off the bat or something. It probably had a tiered list of powers and items at its disposal depending on what world the **Gamer** chose, and had simply doled out one appropriate to the situation. In this case, he was in the tutorial, so he got a tutorial level item, and he'd chosen High School DxD, so he'd gotten a Twice Critical. It was pretty logical, actually.

Having sufficiently blown away most of his own steam, he let himself flop back down onto the floor as he ran a hand through his hair. A Twice Critical. That was his sacred gear. Well, actually it wasn't _his_ sacred gear so much as it was a sacred gear that had been planted into his soul, but he was just arguing semantics now. Like it or not, his tutorial gift was a Twice Critical and there wasn't very much he could do to change that, so there was no point getting upset over it.

So. A Twice Critical. That was what he had to work with. Might as well review what it was capable of. Now, what could it do, again?

Oh right, it could double the user's power.

...that's it. That's all it could do.

Pretty sub-standard, really, especially considering that there exists a Longinus that could do said action _multiple_ times as well as having a few other tricks to fall back on, whereas aside from functioning as an arm-guard or as a punching tool, the Twice Critical didn't really do anything else other than double the user's power _once_ and for a limited amount of time.

Jeez. Maybe its stats would paint it in a better light?

 **[ Item Observation]**

 **[** Twice Critical **]-Item Type: [** Sacred Gear **]-LV: [** 1 **]-Exp: [** 0/60 **]-** **DMG: [** 50 + STR*1.3 + DEX*0.7 + MAG*7.9 **]-Req: [** 15 VIT **]-** **Item Rating: [** E **]-** **Item Rarity: [** E **]** **  
** **Item Desc: [** Also called the **Hand of the Dragon** , the Twice Critical is an extraordinarily common dragon-type sacred gear that takes the form of a fingerless gauntlet. **]**

(Seriously? The reason I couldn't use the damn thing before now was because I didn't have enough **VIT**?) How did that make any sense? Issei was able to use the Boosted Gear in Twice Critical form immediately and he... actually took an insane of constant punishment even as a human, and managed to spring right back up as though nothing happened.

Okay, now that he thought about it, it actually made sense.

...but it really was the bottom of the barrel, wasn't it? It had mediocre **STR** scaling despite being a weapon whose primary way of dealing damage was _punching_ , it had a pretty subpar ability, hell, it even had the worst possible scores for both its rating _and_ its rarity! It was literally worse than a _rusty frying pan_ in terms of quality! That was beyond pathetic! It's only redeeming quality was its ludicrous **MAG** scaling, and that frankly wasn't enough to justify being below-average in _every other_ category! His best-and frankly, only-hope to make this thing just a little bit better was that he could possibly eventually unlock its balance breaker, if such a basic sacred gear even _had_ one.

And even then, it would still be a barely above-average sacred gear.

...at least he had a reason to start investing into **MAG**.

Dismissing the observation screen, Elliot brought his arm up to his face once more, rotating his arm around and studying the gauntlet impassively.

(...still cool, I guess.) He mused, looking it over and flexing his exposed fingers. Sure, his excitement might've dimmed somewhat (read; been crushed into the ground) upon realizing that his sacred gear was the most low-level and commonplace sacred gear of all time, but still. The gauntlet itself looked badass, and he'd basically gotten a free superpower, so he couldn't get _that_ disappointed. Sure, said superpower was sub-standard even within its own universe, but in his eyes, being able to double his power was markedly better than _not_ being able to double his power.

Grabbing his right arm with his left hand, he idly traced the grooves and dips in the gauntlet with a finger as he stared at it, lost in his own thoughts. Finally, running a thumb over the spherical jewel situated over his knuckles, he stared hard into the orb as though it would give him whatever answer he was seeking.

(You're better than nothing, huh?) He thought after a while of mute staring, and then turned his head to the side, eyes cast toward the foreboding stairwell, before turning his head back to the toy-esque gauntlet on his arm. Could he do this? Would this simple sacred gear be enough to carry him through to the boss? Could he even survive this? Was he going to die in the tutorial?

...no. No, he was not going to go out before his story even began. Terrible sacred gear or no, he _was_ going to make it to the end of this. He'd gotten along well enough so far, and now he had an 'ace in the hole' to rely on, so his chances had only improved with the unlocking of his sacred gear, garbage-tier or no.

Speaking of which, he should probably practice with his new toy a bit, eh?

Getting back up off of the floor, he took a stance with his feet spread out some distance from one another, his left in front of his right. Balling his hand into a fist, he then took a deep breath as he mentally uttered the word ( **Boost**!), his sacred gear letting loose a boom that almost sounded like a roar as the large sphere began to glow, lighting up the dim room with streaks of bright pink light.

Trying his damnedest to not lose himself in the relaxing warmth this time, he opened his **Status** screen to see exactly what his sacred gear actually did.

 **[ Status]**

 **Personal Information  
[**Human **]**  
 **Name: [** Elliot Winterveil **]  
** **Age: [** 21 **]**  
 **Race: [** African American **]**  
 **Gender: [** Male **]  
** **  
Title(s): [** N/A **]  
** **Class(es): [** Thief **]  
** **Alignment: [** N/A **]  
** **Sacred Gear: [** Twice Critical **]-[** N/A|Dormant **]**

 **General Stats  
** **LV:** 3  
 **HP:** 360/360 (x2)  
 **MP:** 70/70 (x2)

 **EXP:** 0/180

 **Stat Points:** 9

 **Physical Stats**  
 **VIT:** 15 (x2)  
 **AGI:** 15 (x2)  
 **STR:** 15 (x2)  
 **DEX:** 15 (x2)  
 **ACC:** 15 (x2)

 **Mental Stats**  
 **INT:** 24 (0)  
 **WIS:** 21 (0)  
 **CHA:** 10 (0)

 **Metaphysical Stats**  
 **LUK:** 15 (0)  
 **MAG:** 3 (x2)

 **Perks/Buffs/Debuffs**  
 **[** Passive Regeneration **]-Desc: [** Regenerate **HP** and **MP** over time. **]-Effect: [** Passively regenerate **HP** at a rate of 1.5/s, and **MP** at a rate of 0.3/s. **]  
[**Power Doubling (Twice Critical) **]-Desc: [** Doubles movement speed, reaction time, physical strength, durability and magical potency. **]-Effect: [** Doubles the user's physical stats, as well as the **MAG** stat. **]**

 **Quick Character Bio  
"Elliot Winterveil. Strategist, thief, and Gamer."**

 **Drops  
30 exp, Human Corpse (x1), Black Converse, Black Sweatpants, Green T-shirt, Grey Hoodie**

Wow. That was... _far_ more than he expected from such a basic ability.

Dismissing the status screen, he counted out the seconds before the boost wore off and then immediately attempted to activate it again, to no avail. He kept attempting to do so while mentally counting out how much time it took for him to be able to boost again. Ten seconds. The cool-down between boosts was about ten seconds. Looks like function wasn't the only thing that the Twice Critical borrowed from the Boosted Gear.

Fittingly, the duration of the boost was also exactly ten seconds, so the cool-down time was actually kind of warranted.

Done with his testing, he then opened up his status screen and dumped seven points into **MAG**.

 **[ Stats Up!]**

 **MP: 70** **→140, MAG: 3** **→10, Stat Points: 9** **→2**

Finished with that, he then marched over to the stairwell leading down to the boss, and when the notification popped up once more, he clicked 'yes' without any hesitation. The moment he did so, the dark, miasmic presence faded away, allowing him to see down the set of stairs that would lead him to the final floors of the dungeon.

Swallowing down any hint of fear or hesitance, he calmly and firmly marched down the stairs, intent on finishing up this hell-tutorial once and for all.

* * *

As expected, the final floors of the hospital were its basement, which was surprisingly well-lit for the sub-level of an abandoned building. He could only assume that this was where the thieves stored all of their goods, and thus they only saw the need to keep the power on down here. At least, that was how he rationalized it. For all he knew, it could just be more game mechanics at play.

But regardless of the reason why, Elliot was simply glad that he could finally see more than ten feet in-front of himself.

Typical of the day he was currently having, it didn't take him very long to run into trouble of some sort. The moment he was through the doorway at the bottom of the stairs, he was within range of two armed goons that were steadily approaching him, both of which had assault rifles.

No, really. Assault rifles. M16's to be precise. Because screw him, apparently.

He scarcely had enough time to recognize the threat in front of him before a hail of bullets was raining down upon him, forcing him to duck behind a conveniently placed metal bin, bullets zipping by and pinging off of his hiding place. Damn, how was he supposed to get by?! There weren't any rooms or corridors for him to duck into or any corners for him to hide around, and the only way forward was in-front of him. Was he supposed to just go forward _into_ the hail of bullets?

...well, he didn't really have any other option, did he? Peeking his head out, he managed to catch a glimpse of one of the riflemen moving up on his position before said rifleman began to open fire on him, forcing him back into cover. No, no he did not. Balling his hand into a fist, he counted out the seconds until the gunman would be right on-top of his position, before mentally uttering ( **Boost**!), the familiar warmth enveloping him and, combined with the adrenaline flowing through his veins, invigorating him.

Sprinting from behind cover at top speed with his fist cocked back, he socked the goon in the jaw hard enough to send them flying into the wall and become embedded into it, their rifle dropping to the ground. Quickly ducking down and picking said rifle up, he stayed knelt as bullets flew over his head and opened fire on the second rifleman, his crouched position allowing him a more grounded aim as he sprayed lead down the hall. And though a good few shots missed, he did manage to plug the second gunman in the torso and legs and even in the arm, causing them to drop with their finger on the trigger, spraying bullets everywhere as they died.

(Seriously, why do these guys never have to reload?) He groaned, watching as the downed rifleman peppered the walls and ceiling with lead all the way up until they-and by extension, their rifle-disappeared. Turning back around to the first mook, he then opened fire on the still-embedded enemy, turning their torso into mulch. (Though apparently I don't have to reload either.) He mused, looking over the assault rifle in its entirety up until the point where it also vanished.

Sigh... and so the streak continues.

Vaguely disappointed, he nonetheless forged on and moved to the next room. Upon entering, he was immediately presented with three different hallways he could travel down; to the left was the generator room, no doubt where the source of power to the basement lay, while to the right was a nondescript door that likely led to a storage room, and in front of him lay the boss room. Which happened to be a morgue.

...how novel.

 **Welcome to the home stretch! Nice job making it here!**

But before he could even take another step into the corridor, a message popped up in-front of him.

 **From this point on, all you have to do is walk forward and defeat the boss. The other two paths are strictly optional.**

Thank God for that. He may not be able to get physically tired, but he'd still had enough of all this nonsense for one day.

 **However, this side path will make your time in the boss room significantly easier.**

What?

 **The right path, for example, holds useful items and gear for use in the boss fight, while the left path will take you to an [** Event **] that will change the way the boss fight will work.**

Oh really now?

 **Well, that's all for now! Good luck in the boss fight!**

...well, guess he wasn't facing the boss just yet.

* * *

Well, looks like he was right about the room on the right being a storage room. Only, instead of medical supplies, the Shade Gang had converted the place into a stash for all their loot. And speaking of, boy, was there a lot of crap in here! Appliances, jewelry, silverware, anything even remotely valuable had been stockpiled in here. Including a bunch of stuff from a museum. Huh, looks like his earlier assessment hadn't been entirely incorrect.

 **Optional objective located!**

 **"Stocking Up"**

 **Optional Objective: [** Retrieve any useful items you can find **]**

But unfortunately for him, it seemed as though the Shade Gang hadn't been so foolish as to leave their stockpile unguarded. From where he was standing, he could see at least two more shadowfiends, one of which was facing him, and one facing away from him. Fortunately, the one that was facing his position was, surprisingly, asleep on the job, leaning against a wall with no weapon in sight. He hadn't even known that these things _could_ sleep! The other one, however, was wide awake, and had a kind of rifle in its hands, one that was predominately made of wood, at least as far as he could see.

( **Observe**.)

 **[ Enemy Observation]**

 **(1)**

 **Personal Information  
[**Shadowfiend **]** **  
Name: [** Mina **]  
** **Age: [** 37 **]**  
 **Race: [** N/A **]**  
 **Gender: [** Female **]**

 **Title(s): [** N/A **]  
** **Class(es): [** Phantom Thief (Gunman) **]  
** **Alignment: [** Shade Gang **]  
** **Sacred Gear:** **[** N/A|Dormant **]**

 **General Stats  
LV:** 3 **  
HP:** 920/920 **  
** **MP:** N/A

 **Physical Stats**  
 **VIT:** 11 (0)  
 **AGI:** 3 (0)  
 **STR:** 3 (0)  
 **DEX:** 5 (0)  
 **ACC:** 7 (0)

 **Mental Stats**  
 **INT:** 5 (0)  
 **WIS:** 6 (0)  
 **CHA:** 3 (0)

 **Metaphysical Stats  
** **LUK:** 5 (0) **  
** **MAG:** 0 (0)

 **Perks/Buffs/Debuffs** **  
** **N/A**

 **Quick Character Bio  
** **"A hired gun with a paycheck to earn. Figuratively speaking, of course."** **  
**

 **Drops  
** **40 exp, 31-50 gold, Sawed-off Shotgun (6%)** **  
**

 **(2)**

 **Personal Information  
[**Shadowfiend **]** **  
Name: [** Jerard **]  
** **Age: [** 29 **]**  
 **Race: [** N/A **]**  
 **Gender: [** Male **]**

 **Title(s): [** N/A **]  
** **Class(es): [** Phantom Thief (Gunman) **]  
** **Alignment: [** Shade Gang **]  
** **Sacred Gear:** **[** N/A|Dormant **]**

 **General Stats  
LV:** 3 **  
HP:** 910/910 **  
** **MP:** N/A

 **Physical Stats**  
 **VIT:** 10 (0)  
 **AGI:** 5 (0)  
 **STR:** 6 (0)  
 **DEX:** 2 (0)  
 **ACC:** 6 (0)

 **Mental Stats**  
 **INT:** 6 (0)  
 **WIS:** 5 (0)  
 **CHA:** 7 (0)

 **Metaphysical Stats  
** **LUK:** 2 (0) **  
** **MAG:** 0 (0)

 **Perks/Buffs/Debuffs** **  
** **N/A**

 **Quick Character Bio  
** **"A hired gun with a paycheck to earn. Figuratively speaking, of course."** **  
**

 **Drops  
** **40 exp, 31-50 gold, Musket (W/Bayonet) (3%)**

...

...yeah, he was pretty much expecting ridiculous jumps in power at this point.

And also, really? A musket? Out of all the weapons you could've picked, you chose a musket?

Crouching low to the ground, his **Sneak** skill passively activated, ensuring that as long as he moved slowly and quietly, the guard facing away wouldn't notice him. He had a plan. Sneaking up behind the musket-wielding gunman, Elliot put one hand over his mouth and chopped him hard in the neck with the other, stunning him long enough for Elliot to grab the rifle out of his hands. Only this time, he focused on using his **Steal** skill while doing so.

Pulling the gun away from its previous owner, he then reeled it back and smacked the butt of the gun into the now-weaponless thief's head, knocking him to the ground. He finished off his attack by ruthlessly jamming the old rifle's bayonet into the back of the gang member's skull repeatedly until he began to dissipate just like his brethren. Just as he expected, the musket didn't disappear with its former owner this time.

...huh. Well, now he just felt like an idiot for not putting two and two together sooner.

Unlike what he expected, however, the sleeping goon was, well... still sleeping. How she'd managed to sleep through her buddy being brutally murdered, he would never know, but he was definitely going to capitalize. Striding up to the unconscious mook, he looked around for the gunman's supposed weapon of choice, but it was nowhere to be found. What, did the gunman have it up its ass or something?

Because if so, he wasn't going to check. Even if it was technically a girl, he didn't need a shotgun _that_ badly.

Putting his new gun into his inventory for the moment, he cracked his knuckles, before cocking back his fist, **Boost** ing himself, and then unleashing his powered-up punch.

The end result of said action was that the shadowfiend was greeted to a rude awakening in the form of a vicious **Right Hook** crashing into Mina's face hard enough to push it in, quickly followed up by her entire head smashing into the wall as she flailed wildly in surprise. Elliot quickly pulled back his fist and cocked it once more, before unleashing a second **Right Hook** into Mina's already battered face, cratering the wall behind her even more as she continued to flail helplessly.

He drew back his fist and landed another hard **Right Hook** , the gunman's struggles losing strength as her face lost shape. A final **Right Hook** sealed the deal, the shadowfiend's body going limp before she disappeared. Brutal, yes, but he needed his sacred gear to get more experience, and that was relatively important enough for him to set aside his feelings on the matter, so he didn't feel that bad about it.

 **[ Level Up!]**

 **LV: 3** **→4, HP: 360** **→510, MP: 140** **→240, Stat Points: 2** **→47**

...huh. He hadn't even realized that he was close to another level-up. Oh well, time to distribute stat points. After pulling up his status screen, he did just that, putting five points into **VIT** , **AGI** , **STR** , **DEX** , **ACC** and **LUK** , and putting a whole ten into **MAG** , saving the last seven points for later.

 **[ Stats Up!]**

 **HP: 510** **→560, MP: 240** **→340** **,** **VIT: 15** **→20, AGI: 15** **→20, STR: 15** **→20, DEX: 15** **→20, ACC: 15** **→20, LUK: 15** **→20, MAG: 10** **→20, Stat Points: 47** **→7**

Yeah, that seemed good for now. Turning his attention back to his newest acquisition, he pulled it out of his inventory and then used his **Observe** skill to get a read on his new toy.

 **[ Item Observation]**

 **[** Musket (W/Bayonet) **]-Item Type: [** Rifle **]-Weapon LV: [** 1 **]** **-** **DMG (Melee): [** 95 + STR*1.4 + DEX*1.5 + Rifle Proficiency*0.9 **]-DMG (Projectile): [** 125 + ACC*2.6 + Rifle Proficiency*3.7 **]** **-Req: [** 7 STR 8 DEX **]-Durability: [** 220/220 **]-** **Item Rating: [** C **]** **-Item Rarity: [** B **]  
** **Item Desc: [** A 17th century muzzle-loaded flintlock powder musket with a bayonet attached to the end of it. **]**

As to be expected of an actual _weapon_ , it was much, _much_ better than anything he'd wielded so far. Then again, 'anything he'd wielded so far' solely included a scalpel and a frying pan, so it didn't have much competition to begin with. But that was beside the point. He was now armed. And also possibly dangerous. Now all he had to do before defeating the boss was deal with that generator room.

But first, it was time for a little counter-thieving...

 **Optional objective complete!**

* * *

After cleaning out the room of every single valuable item (and all of the non-valuable ones, too, he just put them back afterwards), Elliot made his way out of the storage room and down the hall to the generator room, right arm preemptively tensed. He'd chosen to continue using his Twice Critical over the musket because, for one, it had _far_ more oomph, it was far easier to maneuver and he could still use his inventory while using it.

Speaking of which, he'd done some fiddling around and found out some interesting things about his inventory and equipment.

Firstly, if he equipped any gear, it would stay equipped even if he put it back into his inventory, meaning that he could keep any number of weapons or items equipped on him without them slowing him down or obstructing his movement. For example, he currently had the musket equipped, so even though it was currently in his inventory, if he imagined himself holding/using it, it would immediately appear on his person, as if by magic. His inventory management had gotten a whole lot easier when he figured that one out.

And secondly, he had a kind of 'hotbar' or a quick-select where he could equip consumable items for immediate use without having to root through his inventory for them (or physically have them on his person), thus streamlining the process of using healing items, thrown weapons or anything else he decided to equip there.

Pushing open the door to the generator room, he was treated to the sight of his second optional objective; a set of three large, bulky generators, only one of which was on and supplying power to anything.

 **Optional objective located!**

 **"Who Cut Out the Lights?"**

 **Optional Objective: [** Disable the generator **]**

(...well, guess I'm partying in the dark, then.) After carefully scouring the room, he was able to conclude that there were no shadowfiends about this time around, which meant that he could get to work without being disturbed. Walking around the only working generator, he eventually found the shut-off switch, which was covered by about five or so pounds of duct tape.

Well, he was about to remedy that.

Pulling out the musket, he used the sharp bayonet to cut through the tape preventing him from switching the generator off. And after a good amount of slashing and stabbing, he finally removed enough tape to allow him to push the button. Immediately afterward, the entire place was plunged into blackness, robbing him of his sight until the emergency lights turned on, bathing the room in an angry red glow.

Huh. Well, that was that.

 **Optional objective complete!**

Yes, excellent. Moving on.

After dealing with the generator (and allowing his eyes time to adjust to the low light), Elliot stowed the musket back into his inventory, and then turned to go back into the main hall, before looking down at his lightly glowing gauntlet. Turning his attention back to the shredded-up tape on the floor and the generator, he then hatched an idea. His sacred gear glowed when he used it, and that would make him a big target in the dark, therefore ruining any chance he had of being stealthy. But what if he _covered_ the part that glowed?

Walking back over to the generator, he began tearing off sizable strips of tape and slapping them over the topmost part of the gauntlet, layering them over one another when he ran out of horizontal space, until there was a thick covering of tape on it. He then activated it, and watched in satisfaction as the thick layers of black tape successfully blocked the light coming from his sacred gear.

Satisfied with his work, he moved back into the main hall, and now stood before the entrance to the boss arena, staring down the doors separating him and whatever lurked within. Eyes roaming over the part of the doors illuminated by the emergency lights, he took a moment to ruminate on his progress.

This was it. The last hurdle. Once he was done with this, then this whole dreadful tutorial was over, and he could, at least for a little while, relax. Sure, his life wasn't going to get any easier from here, but he would at least get to take a break.

After a moment's thought, he decided to go in quiet rather than burst in guns blazing, and so mentally willed forth the musket back into his hands. If bad came to worse, he could at least use the bayonet without alerting too many people to his presence. He would, if at all possible, circle the fringes of the room and work his way in quietly, taking out anyone along the way as stealthily as possible, before facing the boss itself.

Now sufficiently (mentally) prepared, he took a deep breath and then the doors open, entering the boss' arena.

* * *

Typical of what he'd been experiencing thus far, the doors closed behind him the moment Elliot was all the way in the room. The room itself was, due to his actions, pitch black, with the same red emergency lights providing some small amount of visibility to the otherwise inky blackness. Tapping his fingers on the wooden stock and barrel of his gun, he cautiously moved forward, maneuvering his way into the cartoonishly large morgue.

Honestly, the damn thing looked like it took up one-hundred yards of space! How large did a morgue have to be?

...on second thought, he didn't want to know.

What he did want to know, however, was where the boss was, because he didn't see it anywhere. In fact, he didn't see anyone or anything out of the ordinary. Did he have to move farther into the room in order to trigger the boss encounter? He did, didn't he? Walking further into the room, he was immediately proved correct as a thick, dark fog pooled in front of him, slowly forming into the shape of a crouched person. A very large, burly person, with large, scythe-like claws and biceps larger than his head.

The absurdly large shadowfiend, bathed in the eerie red glow of an emergency light, slowly stood up from a crouch, a number of accessories forming on the figure's ludicrously muscular body; a tie, a bowler hat and, most concerningly, a Gatling gun that looked as though it had been ripped from the wing of an attack helicopter. It didn't help that said gun was pointed right at him.

And all he had was a 17th century musket.

This was going to be _wonderful_.

( **...observe.** )

 **[ Observation]**

 **Personal Information  
[**Shadowfiend **]** **  
Name: [** Marcel **]  
** **Age: [** 32 **]**  
 **Race: [** N/A **]**  
 **Gender: [** Male **]**

 **Title(s): [** N/A **]  
** **Class(es): [** Phantom Kingpin **]  
** **Alignment: [** Shade Gang **]  
** **Sacred Gear:** **[** N/A|Dormant **]**

 **General Stats  
** **LV:** 4  
 **HP:** 1200/1200  
 **MP:** N/A

 **Physical Stats**  
 **VIT:** 16 (0)  
 **AGI:** 1 (0)  
 **STR:** 14 (0)  
 **DEX:** 2 (0)  
 **ACC:** 1 (0)

 **Mental Stats**  
 **INT:** 7 (0)  
 **WIS:** 6 (0)  
 **CHA:** 9 (0)

 **Metaphysical Stats  
** **LUK:** 12 (0) **  
** **MAG:** 0 (0)

 **Perks/Buffs/Debuffs** **  
** **N/A**

 **Quick Character Bio  
** **"The boss of the Shade Gang, a hulking bruiser with a gun capable of Swiss-cheesing a SWAT van. "** **  
**

 **Drops  
** **360 exp, 51-100 gold, Minigun (0.2%)**

Well, at least it wasn't as bad as he expected it to be. If nothing else, he could probably abuse the hell out of the boss' low **AGI** and **ACC** stats.

 ***Whirrr***

That is, if he lived that long.

* * *

 **[ BOSS ENCOUNTER]**

 **[ Enemy]  
Phantom Kingpin (LV: 4)  
HP: 1200/1200  
MP: 10/10**

 **VS**

 **[** **Player** **]  
Elliot Winterveil (LV: 4)  
HP: 560/560  
MP: 340/340**

* * *

Quickly dashing to the side, he barely avoided a loud, violent burst of gunfire from the hulking beast of a weapon in the boss' hands, flashes from the barrel lighting up the inky darkness. Unfortunately for him, the boss kept firing, and simply turned the gun to follow him. Swearing loudly, he kept running, barely outpacing the constant stream of hot lead nipping at his heels. Seeing that he wasn't going to get a break, he activated his sacred gear, **Boost** ing himself and drastically increasing his run speed to a point where the boss couldn't track him anymore.

Quickly bolting into the shadows, he then halted to a standstill, crouching low and keeping as still as possible. Just as Elliot expected, the boss began to express confusion, comically scratching his head with one hand as he let the barrel of his weapon drop to the ground.

(Good, he lost sight of me.) Elliot silently breathed out, allowing his heart to calm down before he made another move. After about ten seconds of focusing on settling his heart-rate down (and watching the boss be hilariously confused) he took a deep-albeit silent-breath, took aim with his musket, and fired a shot directly into the brute's head from the shadows, a loud report sounding out in the quiet room as the old powder musket discharged with a puff of smoke.

The powerful shot, gaining a sizable bonus from being both a head-shot and a sneak attack, staggered the boss heavily, causing him to take a knee while sitting his gun next to him. But instead of rushing in, as he was expected to, Elliot instead slowly shuffled to a different part of the room, all the while keeping his eyes on the boss in order to gauge its reaction. Sure enough, after about five seconds of being stunned, the boss suddenly sprang to life, jumping to his feet with a hearty swing of his Minigun and firing a hail of bullets in all directions as he did so.

Unfortunately, 'in all directions' also meant 'where he was standing-er, crouching', and so he got pelted with several bullets before he could react, causing him to cry out in pain as he collapsed. This had the unfortunate effect of drawing the boss' attention, and so he was forced to scramble to his feet, powering through the screaming pain as he staggered away from the stream of gunfire, slowly regaining his footing as he frantically dashed away.

 **Boost** ing away once more, he quickly sprinted around the morbid arena, before dashing into the shadows and hunkering down once more. Just as before, the boss lost track of him, and so he was free to recuperate and gather himself.

(Damn, that hurt!) He spat, heaving slightly as he allowed his wounds to automatically close up. Even as he looked down to see the bullets pop out of his skin, Elliot could only thank his **LUK** stat that he hadn't fallen for that fool's offer of getting close to the boss when he was downed. But still, how much damage had he even taken, anyway?

 **[** **Player** **]  
Elliot Winterveil (LV: 4)  
HP: 512/560  
MP: 340/340**

Damn! That had been a good chunk of his health, and he'd only been hit by about five or so bullets! He could only imagine what would've happened had he been standing close enough to receive the full barrage...

But at least he'd injured the boss a good bit, right?

 **[ Enemy]  
Phantom Kingpin (LV: 4)  
HP: 1329/1200  
MP: N/A**

...damn it. This was going to take a while. Taking aim once more, he fired off another powerful shot, this one also getting both sneak attack and head-shot bonuses. Once more, the boss staggered dramatically, but this time, instead of sitting around and waiting for the boss to recover, he took aim once more and fired off another round, this one only getting a head-shot bonus.

The boss' next action was, contrary to what he expected, not to stand up and begin firing wildly. No, instead the boss did something unexpected.

He moved on to his second phase.

(It's a procedural boss?!) He mentally yelped, watching as a tactical vest and a bulletproof helmet replaced the boss' tie and bowler hat-no, scratch that, the bowler hat was on-top of the helmet and the tie was underneath the vest. It would've been amusing had the being wearing said attire also not have been a hulking wall of muscle and rage. Guess he'd have to work harder to do damage now.

Because of course it had to get _more_ difficult.

 **[ Enemy]  
Phantom Kingpin (LV: 4)  
HP: 963/1200  
MP: N/A**

Keeping crouched, he slowly and quietly moved to a different corner of the room while avoiding the spotlights caused by the emergency lights. And just in time as well; mere moments after he began moving, the boss suddenly whipped around and peppered the area where he'd been standing with lead. He did all he could to not imagine what would've happened had he still been there. But just as he hunkered down in his new hiding spot, the irate boss began sweeping the room with gunfire, lighting up the room once more.

Giving a silent shriek of alarm, Elliot hastily hid behind the first thing he could find; an overturned gurney. One that smelled of death and decay, no less. Because his day was already going _so_ well. But regardless of the conditions of his new hiding spot, it served him well enough in deflecting the rain of bullets just long enough for the sweeping Gatling gun to pass by him, though it did dent in quite a bit in several spots.

After doing an entire sweep of the room and coming up empty, the boss, confused and irate, moved from the middle of the room and began patrolling around in search of him. Unfortunately for the kingpin, he bumbled in the opposite direction of the slowly-healing Elliot, which gave him plenty of time to take aim and fire, staggering the boss with yet another sneak attack head-shot.

Being quicker on the draw this time, he fired off another head-shot, and then another, and another after that before the boss, injured and furious, burst to his feet once more, firing a spray of lead that forced him back into cover. Daring to peek out to see what the boss would do next, he paled (an impressive feat, considering his skin tone) as the boss proceeded into its next phase.

He slapped on a pair of infrared goggles.

...shit. How far was he in the boss fight that _this_ was being introduced?

 **[ Enemy]  
Phantom Kingpin (LV: 4)  
HP: 499/1200  
MP: N/A**

Holy hell, he was almost finished already?! Well, actually he had plugged the boss in the head a good seven or so times already, so he couldn't be _that_ surprised, but still. This was going along marginally faster than he expected it to. But even then, he couldn't afford to get cocky and slip up, especially now, at the final hour! Looking around, he realized that he was going to have to try excruciatingly hard not to get turned into minced meat, and so frantically searched through the dark for something he could use to distract the boss before it noticed him.

He found his distraction in the form of a stray clipboard, one that some doctor or assistant had likely been jotting on as they deduced a corpse's cause of death (he tried really hard not to think about that part. He failed). Picking it up, he tossed it like a disc, sending the metal clipboard skittering across the ground.

Just as he hoped, the boss' attention was drawn to the loud noise, but contrary to what he hoped, the enemy AI continued its streak of being smarter than he gave it credit for, as he quickly whirled around and began firing in the opposite direction. Elliot, already crouched in a firing position, barely got out of the way of the full barrage, still catching several bullets in his arms, upper torso and even one in a (thankfully non-vital) part of his face.

Unfortunately, this deadly barrage still dropped him, his body falling to the floor limply, eyes rolling in his head in shock and excruciating agony as his gun flew out of his hands and clattered loudly to the floor some ways away.

 **[** **Player** **]  
Elliot Winterveil (LV: 4)  
HP: 28/560  
MP: 340/340**

Shit. Shit! Shit shitshitshit this was bad! He was in critical danger! He very definitely could not afford to be stunned right now! Powering through the immense agony once more, he managed to pull enough of himself together in order to activate his menu, giving him a welcome reprieve as the world seemed to grind to a halt, the boss stuck mid-rev as it was still in the process of aiming its gun to finish him off.

Another handy thing he'd found out (and should've suspected from the start) was that time seemed to stop whenever he accessed anything related to **The Game** , whether that be his inventory, status screen or even an **Observation** results screen. Which meant that he had plenty of time to maneuver himself into his inventory and use up two medkits, bringing himself back to full health.

Sure, he _could have_ just used them from his hotbar, but then **The Game** wouldn't have paused and he'd likely have suffered more under the barrage that was currently coming his way.

 **[** **Player** **]  
Elliot Winterveil (LV: 4)  
HP: 560/560  
MP: 340/340**

Phew! God that was close! He almost died for real, and he _did not_ want to find out if **The Game** had a respawn system! Allowing himself to catch his breath, he took care to keep the menu open even as he stood up and then took a running stance, before activating another **Boost** , dismissing the menu just as he rapidly sprinted out of the way of the spray of lead meant to end him. Unfortunately, his gun was still in the line of fire, and the old, antique rifle got torn to shreds, removing his only means of defense. The boss, clearly confused at his lack of being dead, began to pound the barrel of his gun on the ground in petulant fury.

(Dammit! This just got several times harder!) He mentally shouted even as he ducked behind a wall, intent on keeping himself out of the boss' line of sight. Okay, he just needed to calm down and think. He wasn't going to get anywhere by panicking! Okay, so he was currently down one weapon, and only had close-range options left. What could he do?

As he contemplated exactly how to get himself out of his predicament, his hand brushed against something laying beside him on the floor. Daring to turn his attention to it, he saw that it was a bag of some kind, and picked it up to more carefully inspect it. It was... a bag of sodium?

No, hold on... it was a bag of sodium _flakes_! Perfect, that was exactly what he needed! But how was he going to get close enough to enact his plan? A distraction wasn't going to work, so was he going to just have to **Boos** **t** over to it and hope he could get the job done quickly?

...wait, a distraction _could_ work! He just needed to get... creative.

* * *

Stomping around the morgue, the Gatling-wielding kingpin searched for the little shit that had wiped out his soldiers and devastated his empire. That slimy little cockroach destroyed everything he had worked so hard to create and had the _nerve_ to be hard to kill as well?! Oh, he was going to turn him into **tomato paste**!

Suddenly, the irate kingpin was snapped out of his reverie by the sound of something hitting the ground and rolling across the linoleum floor. Turning in the direction of the sound, he spied a bottle of pills rolling through a spotlight of red on the floor, before coming to a stop just outside the circle of light. Just as before, the kingpin swiveled around and fired a spray of bullets in the opposite direction, firmly sure that the damned interloper was attempting to pull the same trick twice.

Imagine his surprise when, instead of turning the intruder into a smear on the wall, he instead ended up blasting apart a large beaker that had been thrown at him, resulting in a rain of glass falling down onto the kingpin, as well as the strange gas that had been contained within said beaker. Thinking nothing of it, the boss simply stood still, confused, as the gas began to rise around him, not yet realizing his grievous error.

It started out slow. At first, it was just a simple itching, but that itching rapidly spread all throughout his body, before turning into a painful irritation, and then further escalating into a searing, burning sensation that caused him to drop his weapon in pain and alarm. Flailing wildly, the boss dropped to the floor, thankfully bringing himself out of most of the caustic gas. But by then, the damage had been done. Literally.

 **[ Enemy]  
Phantom Kingpin (LV: 4)  
HP: 11/1200  
MP: N/A**

Okay. It was time to end this. After waiting for the gas to disperse, he strode up to the boss, first using his **Steal** ability to take the Gatling gun for himself (what? It was a _badass_ gun!) before putting one hand on the boss' shoulder while the other held a test tube full of the same gaseous substance that had been in the beaker. The boss, noticing this action, raised his head, eyeless expression portraying either a plea for mercy or a glare of endless hatred. It was kind of hard to tell when he had no facial features, but he preferred to believe it was the latter.

"Well, it's time to say goodbye, chum. But at least we had a _gas_." Standing up, he then threw the test tube onto the floor near the boss' head, shattering it and releasing the substance within. Taking a step back, he watched as the second dose of the caustic mist began to ravage the meager remnants of the kinpin's **HP** , said boss convulsing wildly before going still, his last action in life being to reach out in an attempt to throttle Elliot before he died.

And then Elliot laughed. Whether it was at the absurdity of what he just did, or in shock and relief that he actually lived through the fight, he couldn't say. But there was something about it all that he found funny enough to double over in laughter about, guffawing loudly even as he watched the boss' body disintegrate, a victory jingle ringing out a moment afterward. In all truthfulness, he was simply thankful that he'd actually _survived_ that encounter, despite the numerous close shaves.

After getting most of the laughter out of his system, he finally managed to compose himself enough to look at the victory screen that had accompanied aforementioned jingle, still chuckling slightly.

 **Congratulations!**

 **You defeated the boss, and officially passed the tutorial!**

 **Now you're ready to become a fully-fledged Gamer!**

As he was reading, an out-of-place door opened up in the wall at the far end of the room, this one being an elegant-looking wooden door with intricate golden carvings all along its surface.

 **Please return to the Waiting Room whenever you're ready.**

...well, that was that, then. Giving a tearful farewell to the musket that had served him so well during the boss fight, he began to make his way to the exit before he was stopped by a status screen popping up in front of him.

 **[ Level Up!]**

 **LV: 4** **→5, HP: 560** **→760, MP: 340** **→640, Stat Points: 7** **→52**

Oh, right. He'd forgotten that the boss conveniently awarded specifically enough **exp** for him to level up. Well, he could worry about that _after_ he got some well-deserved rest.

* * *

After stepping through the door, Elliot, to is surprise, did not find himself back in the detective's office. Rather, he was now standing inside of a study that looked as though it had been ripped right out of an old English manor, complete with several bookshelves, a gun rack, and a fireplace with a bearskin rug. There was also a huge oaken desk at the back of the study, with a high-backed leather chair behind it and a leather-bound book of some kind open on-top of it.

Just like the detective's office, however, it was stiflingly devoid of sound or scent, so much so that he found himself floored by the sheer lack of sensory feedback, especially after spending so much time in that dank, moldy hospital. It felt... sterile, for lack of a better word. Suffocating, even. He didn't know how he hadn't noticed it when he'd woken up in the last 'waiting room', but now that he did he wanted nothing more than to leave as soon as possible.

After waiting for something to happen for about ten seconds, he figured that he was supposed to sit down before **The Game** would start spouting more jargon at him, and so walked over to the desk and took a seat in the chair.

 **Congrats, new Gamer! Now that you've gotten a taste of what life as a Gamer is like, you're officially ready to move on to your first adventure!**

Well, it looked like he was going to get an opportunity to leave soon enough.

 **But first, please take this time to rest and relax after your trials. You will be given as much time as you need before you are ready. Just walk through the door when you are ready to begin your adventure in earnest.**

When he finished reading the text on screen, the door to the waiting room swung open again, this time with a pitch-black void on the other side of it.

(...huh. Okay then.) Shrugging to himself, he leaned back in the chair, letting himself sink into it with a long, drawn-out sigh. That had really, really been too close. Stupid enemies and their stupid smart A.I ruining his plans. Rubbing the spot on his face where the bullet had punched through him, he winced as he recounted the excruciating agony he'd felt in that moment. Bullets riddling his torso and arms was bad enough, but one going _through_ his face? God, he never wanted to feel that again! Sure, it had only punched through the right side of his jaw and not, say, his brain, but that didn't mean it didn't hurt like hell.

On a somewhat related note, his clothing had, as a result of him getting hit multiple times, sustained substantial losses in durability. His hoodie, for instance, was at half of its normal durability at this point, while his pants had lost a fourth of their durability. Curiosity peaked, Elliot pulled the Gatling gun out of his inventory and leaned it against the desk on the floor, the massive weapon causing the floorboards to creak audibly as it hit the ground. Taking a closer look at the beast of a weapon now that he had a chance to, he eagerly took in its features.

Just as one would expect, the gun was massive, with multiple barrels, a handle-bar on-top to heft it up with, and a joystick-esque grip where the trigger was situated. But more to the point, the gun itself was, true to what he'd grown to expect from **The Game** , in perfect condition, with only its lowered durability denoting that it had sustained any damage at all.

...yeah, this monster would _definitely_ help him in the trials to come.

Of course, the same could've been said for the musket he'd acquired just before the boss, but then again, it had only been so useful because **The Game** made ammo and reloading a non-issue. If he'd needed to manage that thing's ammunition alongside its ridiculously long arming period _on-top_ of everything else, he wouldn't have had nearly as easy a time as he had. Not even close. And speaking of which, why did guns have infinite ammunition, but he'd run out of shard of glass? Was it because they were technically throwing items that _were_ the ammunition, while a gun was a singular thing that _ran on_ ammunition? Yeah, that was probably it.

Turning his thoughts to his sacred gear, he pondered on how often the so-called 'low-tier sacred gear had saved his hide. This thing had basically carried him through the last floor of the dungeon, and his opinion of it had improved significantly with each use. Who knew such a commonplace sacred gear could be so useful? Of course, getting _any other_ sacred gear would've been much more preferable, but it had proven surprisingly instrumental in his continued survival, so he could at least accredit it with that.

Looking down at the book laying open on the desk, he began to read the words printed onto the crisp, white pages. And then he blinked, before looking again. The page that the book was currently turned to displayed the exploits of infamous thieves Bonnie and Clyde, and the page after that was about the outlaw Billy the Kid. Turning the pages, he saw that there was more of the same on every page. Al Capone, Baby Face Nelson, the list went on and on. What kind of book was this?

Turning the page, he got his answer; _(In)Famous Crooks Throughout History_. Why-why was _this_ here? What reason would **The Game** have for putting this book in _his_ waiting room?

Wait, **The Game** couldn't possibly be _changing_ the waiting room based on his actions, could it? It was, wasn't it? That was why the waiting room had turned from a detective's office to a thieves' den! Was this... was this because of all the stuff he'd stolen? After a moment of silent contemplation, he returned the book to its place on the desk, before leaning back in his chair once more, hands behind his head as he stared up at the ceiling. So. He was on the crooked path now, then. Well, not really, he was more on the 'me, myself and I' path than anything else, but it might as well have been the same thing.

...huh. He didn't feel nearly as bad about that as he thought that he should've.

Done musing for the moment, Elliot sat up, returned the heavy-duty gun to his inventory, and then stood up and walked over to the door, peering out into the infinite blackness impassively. After only a moment's hesitation, he strode through the doorway and into the darkness, and was soon enveloped by an odd, chilling sensation that quickly crept up his legs, spreading throughout his entire body in what seemed like a nanosecond.

Shivering under the odd sensation, Elliot wondered what exactly was happening. Was this a part of the process? Was this supposed to be happening?

His curiosity quickly turned to alarm as the chilling sensation turned painful, the young man screaming out as needles of frost pierced into his skin. He felt himself shudder and shake uncontrollably under the stinging cold, legs quivering as the pain assaulted him from every single conceivable angle. Dropping to his hands and knees, he felt the cold pierce into his skin like needles, eliciting another scream that was cut short as his teeth, chattering wildly from the sheer coldness, bit down onto his tongue, which soon began to bleed as his teeth dug into it.

His eyes turned to pinpricks as he felt agonizing cold seep into his very soul and freeze over his brain, before he fell over into a heap, ceasing all movement as his consciousness fled him soon afterward.

* * *

 **Reincarnation Initialized!**

 **Re-Initializing Player Character...**

 **Loading World...**

 **Calculating Starting Point...**

 **ERROR! ERROR!**

 **SYSTEM INTERRUPTION!**

 **SYSTEM INTERRU-**

* * *

(Elliot's POV, First Person)

Have you ever been frozen? I mean like collapsing in the snow during a blizzard, not like just being in a room with the air conditioner on full blast. Well, if you're alive right now, then chances are you haven't.

Here's a hint; _it's not very pleasan_ t.

You see, there's cold, and then there's _cold_ , and then there's _someone please help me_ , and then finally there's _oh god just kill me already_. And unfortunately, I happened to experience that last one first-hand. And I can certainly say that it is not an experience I would like to repeat.

But the thing is that despite what I just described, something infinitely worse was waiting for me when I woke up. Something big, something monstrous. Something that made me wish that I hadn't survived being flash-frozen.

But no, there was no such mercy for me, for when I woke up, I was floating in a stark, black void, devoid of any distractions and with only one thing sharing the seemingly endless space with me.

A dragon.

But not just any dragon. No, this was a large, or if I may be so bold, _great_ red western dragon, roughly the size of a skyscraper, with building-sized wings and silvery white teeth the size of a fully grown human male. I felt my soul shudder and quake as its piercing gaze stared down at me impassively, as though I was something so far beneath it that it struggled to grasp the smallness of my existence. And if this was who I thought it was, than that would be an apt observation indeed.

Great Red. _The_ Great Red. The Dragon God of Apocalypse.

And he was staring right at _me_.

 **"Who the hell are you, punk?"**

* * *

 **Well, that was the second chapter of Gaming DxD! Hope you enjoyed!**

 **As some of you may have noticed, I've done away with numbers popping up whenever damage is dealt. I feel that this change will make paragraphs run smoother without having to configure them to fit in a sentence telling how much damage this hit or that hit dealt. But don't worry, I won't be arbitrarily deciding how much a hit does. I'm still calculating exactly how much damage is done, I'm just not showing it anymore.**

 **On another note, how many of you expected Elliot's sacred gear to be what it was? Originally, I toyed with the idea of giving him a far better sacred gear, but after putting in some thought I realized that it made more sense for a tutorial item to be the most basic sacred gear imaginable, which is why he got a Twice Critical instead of the far cooler sacred gear I originally planned to give him.**


	3. Update and Apology

**Hello, all. It's EyesOfChaos here, finally back from my extended, unannounced and unplanned hiatus!**

 **Yeah, in all seriousness, though, sorry for the long wait. To make a long story short, a combination of various real life problems just wore me down until I didn't have any drive or energy to write-or pursue any of my hobbies, for that matter. And only just now, an entire year later, am I finally resolving the last of those problems.**

… **well, actually I got everything figured out about two or so months ago, but I really just wanted to wait until the anniversary of my unexpected disappearance to make a return. Y'know, for dramatic purposes. And also because human beings can't help but arbitrarily attach meaning to things which coincide with memories in which they felt particularly strong emotions.**

… **and I'll just put this dictionary away now.**

 **All jokes aside, now that I've got my creative spirit back, I'm going to have to work feverishly to build back up to where I was before life got in the way, especially since I had to start all over again.**

 **Oh, yeah, I forgot to mention; the phone I was using to write and store documents on died and took everything with it. And since FanFiction only holds onto docs for 90 days,** _ **all**_ **of my work got deleted. Meaning that I had to rebuild the entire framework of this story** _ **again**_ **, and more or less from scratch, with a marginal amount of content supplemented from memory.**

 **And while yes, you could argue that I could simply use the two previous chapters as groundwork to build off of, they only give me the barest hints of what I was planning on doing before I dropped the ball into the Grand Canyon.**

 **They are, after all, literal tutorial chapters created specifically to get all of the nitty-gritty 'game' stuff sorted out before I moved on to the actual story. Only, I never got to do that, and all you were left with was, essentially, exposition-dump chapters.**

 **Now, before you all get up in arms, I'm not going to delete the story again. I will** _ **never**_ **do that again. I promise that on my (admittedly little) worth as a writer. No, I'm simply going to remake the first two chapters with the new ideas that have been storming around in my brain ever since I got my creative spirit back-and in fact, they'll probably end up being even longer than they were before.**

 **And no, I'm not just going to add more content for the sake of making the story longer. Everything I'm planning on including will be solely for the sake of making the two previous chapters more interesting and impactful-well, as much as a prologue can be, anyway-as well as giving the viewer a clearer, more concise grasp on the MC's personality before we dive headlong into their story.**

 **And speaking of which, I'm switching the main character back to Ryder because I feel like he didn't get his chance in the spotlight before I hit the reset button. So nyeh heh heh heh heh.**

 **But don't despair, though. Elliot will get his chance, just not with Gaming DxD, because that's Ryder's tale to tell. I have… other plans for ol' Eli.**

… **but yeah. I'm back, and hopefully not going anywhere anytime soon for quite as long as before. Now, mind you, I can't promise any particularly concise dates for when I'll start posting actual content again, but I can say that I** _ **will**_ **officially start posting again sometime in September, so you won't have to wait** _ **quite**_ **as long before hearing from me this time.**

 **Oh! But I actually do have good news; I finally have a computer again! I mean, it's a crappy little Acer One that can't play most games, but hey, it does what I need it to! That means no more agonizingly slow typing on mobile, which in turn means that I can crank out chapters** _ **far**_ **quicker!**

 **And finally…**

… **huh. Actually, that was all I had for today's news docket. Go figure.**

 **Welp, that concludes your yearly Gaming DxD news bulletin! Please check back in with us on August 31, 2019 for your next installment!**

… **sorry. That one was in poor taste. I'll see myself out the door, thank you.**

 **So! With that out of the way, this is EyesOfChaos, signing off (but not for that long this time)!**


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